


Waiting to Happen

by phlight



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Confused boner, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, What Have I Done, bottom!T.O.P, brief gtop and nyongtory mentions, or maybe overtones, seungri has had it with your shit, so much F-word, the underage warning is brief reminiscing about being a horny teenager, they do it a lot, topri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9883907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlight/pseuds/phlight
Summary: Seungri is Seunghyun's favorite distraction.





	1. Japan cam

**Author's Note:**

> Cliche author's note about how I did not expect this to go where it went. I was inspired by a (deleted, of course) video T.O.P posted on his Instagram and intended to write a sexy little oneshot....30K+ words later...
> 
> Timeline does not follow real life. I wrote most of this back in Sept 2016, before I knew they'd be on different continents on certain days. Set between the group's tenth anniversary and Seunghyun's departure. Mostly me fantasizing about getting another T.O.P solo. ;)
> 
> Story contains the following potentially offensive things: rough sex, rough language, (especially from T.O.P, because it amuses me to think that he has the internal dialogue of a drunken sailor, and he's shown that he goes full pottymouth when he loses his cool), brief mentions of underage sexuality.
> 
> Thanks so much to my beta reader, corpuscallos_m. She took a look at the first part and not only smacked me over the head with grammar and style fixes, but also made some sexy suggestions. 
> 
> Written from a western perspective, I don't own them, they wouldn't do this IRL, etc. If anything really sucks about this fic, it's definitely all my fault.

Seunghyun took his phone from the interior pocket of his suit jacket, keeping his movements quick, surreptitious.  Seungri was too wrapped up in his own phone to notice the outside world anyway. Probably sexting with his nearest available side project.  
  
_Try and hold the fucking thing steady..._ but he was four shots of sake in.  He adjusted the zoom.  
  
"Five minutes, boys,” the manager noona said, poking her head into the lounge just long enough to duck back out.  
  
She didn't have anything to worry about in here – the hyung and the maknae had been ready long enough to grow bored. The real shitshow was in the room down the hall; the others had arrived at the studio only ten minutes ago, thanks to a delayed flight. (And an overbooked schedule – YG's fault, in Seunghyun's opinion.  Trying to shoot an MV in Seoul the day before a Japanese television promotion was asking for trouble.)  Normally Seunghyun would amuse himself watching everyone run around like headless chickens, but his favorite distraction was already in front of him.    
  
Seunghyun and Seungri had been lucky enough to wrap their MV segments first, so they'd flown in together the previous evening. Seunghyun thought it had been kind of nice, just the two of them, if you didn't count security shadowing them down the alleys. They managed to agree on ramen for dinner, so Seungri took him to a great hole in the wall he knew. They got a little shitfaced on Asahi while they chatted about films and food and anything but work. Seunghyun felt grateful all over again that it would fall to his dongsaengs to do most of the talking tonight. He enjoyed performing their songs, but he barely tolerated all the other shit these days.  Too much on his mind.  
  
"Showtime," Seungri muttered under his breath, setting his phone down on the couch and taking out a pair of sunglasses from his leather jacket.  He slid them on, then started rummaging in his pockets again.  
  
"Who said you could wear those?"  Seunghyun asked. That was his shtick. Go out with his eyes covered, wait for his lines, take them off, meaningful stare, knock them dead.  And here was this little shit trying to one-up him, as usual.  
  
Seungri was startled despite Seunghyun's mild tone.  Then he noticed the phone and bit his lip, trying to stifle a smile.  Seunghyun fought to keep his own face straight.  He fucking loved doing this to him.  
  
_He deserves it._  
  
"Stop it, hyung," came the soft protest, in that voice that really meant don't stop. Seunghyun gladly took the bait, crossing the room in three quick strides to join Seungri on the couch. He sat too close on purpose, shoving the camera into Seungri's face. He knew the focus would be off, but when it came to maknae videos, all he cared about was the reaction of his subject. Tonight Seungri seemed primed to give Seunghyun what he wanted; he giggled and batted the phone away before it could actually touch him. “Okay, okay.”  
  
Seunghyun dropped the phone back into his pocket, staring into Seungri's black lenses as he replied.  
  
"But you're so," he dropped his voice to a lower register, putting a slight rasp into it as he switched to heavily-accented Japanese, “Cute. Delicious. Kiss me."  
  
"Good, you've been practicing," Seungri said, sounding like a little priss as he looked down at their thighs pressed together, the faux leather material of their pants squeaking when he shifted a bit. Seunghyun felt a flare of irritation. He wanted to see his eyes, with those pretty lashes fluttering as he tried to cope with his hyung's attention.  
  
"No, I haven't," Seunghyun snapped. Seungri looked up, his lips parting with surprise. Seunghyun plucked the glasses off his face and folded them, putting them in the same inner pocket as his phone.  
  
"Hyung! Give them back!"  
  
" _Give them back_ ," Seunghyun mocked. "Get them yourself."  
  
He saw the sulk darken Seungri's eyes, saw it set in the tense muscles of his jaw, but the maknae knew exactly what the hyung was doing. This was a game they'd played many, many times before. Often in front of other people.  Sometimes in front of thousands of people. Seunghyun wasn't sure how it appeared to everyone else, but the undercurrent seemed obvious to him. He wanted Seungri so fucking bad. Seunghyun had been working up the nerve to make his next move for...well, _years_ , if he was honest with himself. Then yesterday, Seungri literally dropped an opportunity into his lap. He'd been too surprised to seize it, his hesitation earning him another solo, restless night in a hotel room. It was a little pathetic, really, and a lot frustrating.  
  
Seungri reached for his chest, making a halfhearted attempt at the pocket.  Seunghyun caught his wrist, the grip from his large hand cruel enough to twist delicate skin against the bones. Seungri uttered a little cry and tried to pull back. Seunghyun yanked him forward, his other hand digging under his ribcage, producing panic-tinged laughter.  
  
"Stop, stop!" Seungri arched his back, going limp and letting his dead weight pull him away from the torture.    
  
_That's it? Just going to tickle him, after what he did to me? Spineless. I need another drink...ah, fuck it._  
  
Seunghyun followed him, sliding his body over Seungri's as they fell together, his hand still around Seungri's wrist.  He pulled up, slamming Seungri's arm against the back of the couch to expose his armpit.  Seunghyun made a threatening spider shape with his other hand and started to lower it.  
  
"No," Seungri gasped, smacking at the spider with his free hand.  
  
"No?" Seunghyun said as he rolled his hips into Seungri's, just once, for emphasis.  Seungri flushed immediately, his eyelids going crazy with that blink of his. "That doesn't feel like a no to me."  
  
"Are you fucking out of your mind?"  Seungri managed to make eye contact, the hazel lenses he wore making him look even more incredulous than he would otherwise – but the quaver in his voice sounded more charged than innocent.  
  
"I wish I was. Fucking, I mean."  
  
"I knew it. You're drunk. Get off of me—"  
  
"Do you still mess around with Jiyongie?"  The question popped into Seunghyun's mind and he had to ask. Seungri looked like he'd been slapped.  Then his lips curved into a sneer.  
  
"Do _you_?"  
  
"Answer your hyung."  Seunghyun punctuated his statement with another hip roll. _Aish._ The damned pants were so loud. Seungri couldn't possibly get harder, could he? Seunghyun would appreciate the chance to find out.  
  
"No," Seungri said.  
  
Seunghyun laughed right in his face, a little too loud, maybe. Why should he care? Seunghyun hadn't touched (or been touched by) Jiyong in years, but Seungri's resentful petulance made him want to believe it was true.  
  
"So how long has it been?" Seunghyun asked. "Or are you pussy exclusive now?"  
  
"Get the fuck off of me before someone comes in here!"  Seungri cried, heaving up – crotch first, Seunghyun noted – and pushing at Seunghyun's chest with his free arm. Seunghyun laughed again, letting go of Seungri's wrist and sitting back to survey his work: red-faced, panting, limbs splayed, ridiculous erection bulked up against his zipper. Art.  
  
Seunghyun almost regretted his timing, unable to finish what he started, but the thought of Seungri going out there with that rager between his legs was worth it. His own, well, he was older, and he'd always been more in control of himself.  The kid still got lost in hormonal fogs from time to time, drooling after women like a starving dog.    
  
_Except he's not a kid, not anymore. Isn't that why I went for it?_  
  
“I'm sorry.  I'm so rude.”  Seunghyun stood, made a show of brushing himself off, then offered a hand to Seungri.  He actually took it, getting to his feet in that wide-legged way that meant he was trying to adjust himself without using hands. “I should have asked if you were dating anyone first.”  
  
Seungri glared, opened his mouth, but then Youngbae burst in bitching, manager in tow. Seungri dropped Seunghyun's hand like it was on fire.  
  
“Whose idea was it to match pants?  Mine are way too long. And when I walk it sounds like I'm smuggling dog toys next to my balls.”  He moved his legs quickly to demonstrate.  The manager covered her tired face with her hands.  
  
“Seungri insisted,” Seunghyun said, wide-eyed and shrugging. “He's always bragging about his ass in this kind of material.”  
  
“I didn't–!”  
  
“Maybe your back looks good, but the front is too tight,” Youngbae said, his wry smile directed at the manager to see if she was also seeing what he was seeing.  
  
“Shut up,” Seungri said.  
  
“Eyyy how can you disrespect your hyung like that, too grumpy,” Youngbae complained.  
  
“You don't have time for this, especially without a proper rehearsal,” the manager noona scolded, ushering them out to join Jiyong and Daesung in the hall.  
  
Seunghyun was the only one who didn't seem to be affected by negative vibes, but he knew Seungri would smile through the pain for all of them, pull them out of the funk.  Seunghyun almost felt bad about teasing him so much...almost.  
  
They lined up to enter the stage, Jiyong and Youngbae in front, Daesung in the middle, Seungri, and Seunghyun last. In ascending order of visual impact, Seungri had joked when they planned the choreography.  Now Seunghyun took advantage of his position to bump up against the maknae. He only had to do it twice before he earned himself an irritated glance.  
  
“I still have a semi,” Seunghyun admitted, his whisper just audible over the backstage mayhem.  
  
“Not my problem.”  Seungri straightened his posture, adjusted his jacket collar.  
  
“I think I forgot to turn off the recording.”  It wasn't exactly the shower scene, but it was enough to get him a full-on turn around stare.  
  
“Delete it.”  
  
“You should come to my room tonight and do it yourself. You know, just to make sure.” Seunghyun wasn't doing himself any favors getting rid of the semi, stomach flipping just being this close to Seungri in a queue, imagining what would happen behind a locked door.  He almost laughed at his own simple eagerness, so he couldn't hold back a chuckle when he saw the refreshed state of Seungri's pants. “You're so easy.”  
  
“Don't,” Seungri warned.  
  
“Think of your mom or your sister or something, jesus,”  Seunghyun said.  
  
“Think of Jesus?” Seungri said.  
  
“It might work if you're Daesung,” Seunghyun replied.  
  
“Don't talk about me,” Daesung sniffed, flipping hair out of his eyes.  
  
Seungri's eyes went wide and he seemed to pull into himself.  
  
“Relax,” Seunghyun said, putting the briefest touch of reassurance on the small of Seungri's back as he leaned in toward his ear. “How about at eleven?”  
  
“Huh?” Wow, he was dense.  Either that or all the blood in his brain was headed south. Seunghyun tapped him on the shoulder until he turned around again, his lips tight with apprehension. Seunghyun smiled winningly as he removed the sunglasses from his pocket, then slipped the frames over Seungri's ears and gently up his nasal bridge until they settled into place.  He finished with a tap for the tip of his nose. Seungri held his place, not even changing expression.  No fun.  
  
“At _eleven_. Room 1004.”  
  
“Okay,” Seungri said, tipping his chin with the slightest nod before he faced Daesung's back again.  
  
Seunghyun didn't have a chance to respond before Jiyong gave the signal to move. They all squared their shoulders, heading toward the stage to spend the next few hours in entertainment and artifice.  Seunghyun couldn't wait to get real. 


	2. Delete, destroy

“Where is it?”  Seungri said, shoving past him as soon as Seunghyun opened the door.  He closed it himself, slid the chain, then faced his hyung.  Seunghyun used his dimples and stare to his full advantage. He'd just taken a shower so his hair was an artful tousle, his skin soft and clean. He knew what he was, if only from the way others reacted to him.  He didn't really believe it, but results were what mattered when you wanted to get off. Seungri tightened his jaw, his Adam's apple bobbing with a quick swallow.  
  
“Where's what?” Seunghyun's smile broadened.  
  
“Your phone,” Seungri said, his voice already sounding far away.  It was sort of funny, how meek he could be around Seunghyun. What about that big stage personality, and the more private rumors?    
  
“Kiss me,”  Seunghyun repeated in Japanese, leaning in and using his height advantage to crowd Seungri against the corner between the wall and the door. Incredibly, Seungri rolled his eyes.  
  
“You didn't proposition me into coming here for a kiss.”    
  
Seunghyun experienced a mental record scratch before he chuckled.  He was impressed, actually.  This baby had learned to backtalk so well.     
  
_Maybe even from me. But now he's gonna get it._  
  
“Proposition?  You're a fucking tease, you know that?  For years with that–” Seunghyun batted his lashes as he lifted his voice into an imitation of the younger man's, “ _hyuunng_.”  
  
There was a spark in Seungri's eyes – his natural brown, now – and Seunghyun could see the muscle twitch at the edge of his mouth.  So he kept going.  
  
“What about your jiu jitsu? You could have thrown me off that fucking couch today and had me in a choke before I knew which end was up and which was my ass, but you _let me_ pin you. And last night, in the car? That driver is probably selling hidden camera shit on the internet as we speak.  Why did you touch my dick?”  
  
A slow burn started in the pit of his stomach as he recalled Seungri's palm settling on his upper thigh, then sliding over his lap. Seunghyun had merely stared, breathless, as Seungri kept laughing, leaning into Seunghyun's shoulder. He didn't take his hand away until he felt Seunghyun twitch underneath it.  
  
“Hyung, I just had too much to drink. I lost my balance.”  
  
“Sitting in the back of a Cadillac with your seatbelt on?” Seunghyun whispered, close enough to smell some revolting fruity vodka on Seungri's breath.  Jiyong invited him out after the show, Seunghyun remembered, realizing that the uneasy feeling in his chest was pure jealousy.  “Come on. I know Jiyong is cute as hell, but why will you give it to him and not me?”  
  
Seungri rolled his eyes again.  Seunghyun knew he sounded pathetic – he would never talk this way to a woman – but something about Jiyong made him weak.  Now he had to add Seungri to the list.  
  
“Jiyong and I–”    
  
_Fuck that._  
  
Seunghyun took his kiss, gripping Seungri's jaw with both hands to hold him in place. He tasted like the alcohol too, but it was more than fine because Seungri wasn't pulling away from him. He was kissing back, thrusting his tongue alongside Seunghyun's like he'd done it thousands of times before.  
  
_So he imagines it as often as I do._ The thought made Seunghyun groan, inarticulate need tightening the muscles in his thighs, ass, groin. He could barely believe he was allowing himself to do this, was rapidly losing the ability to plan the next move in the game.  He was certain of one thing: he wanted Seungri naked underneath him as soon as possible. He started fumbling with Seungri's belt buckle.  The whole performance tonight had been torture, watching him move in those pants.  Seunghyun hadn't fucked a guy in quite awhile, and this wasn't just anyone rubbing up against him like a stripper on a pole, this was–  
  
“Seungri-ya,” he moaned, unabashed. _Don't make me beg._ Seungri had stopped everything, encircling Seunghyun's wrists with unkind fists.  
  
“You know the word _aho?_ ” Seungri's voice was cold, but Seunghyun had just felt how hot he was, stiff and unmistakable against his thigh, wet and soft on his lips. “How about _baka_ , _hentai_. You definitely know those.”  
  
Seungri let go of Seunghyun's wrists and shoved him in the chest, hard. If the hallway had been any wider he would have fallen, but instead he just ended up awkwardly leaning on the opposite wall, his hair flopping into his eyes.  
  
“Give me your fucking phone, hyung.”  
  
“Don't delete it,” Seunghyun said, a last ditch effort.  Maybe he'd royally screwed up, read Seungri all wrong.  What if that video ended up being his last memento of making Seungri smile?  
  
_Listen to yourself. He's got me fucked up in the head already. This was a mistake, tell him to leave–_  
  
“Choi Seunghyun.”  Seungri's words were cold, firm, even.  Seunghyun couldn't recall hearing him sound like that.  “Give me your phone. Then I'll fuck you.”  
  
“What?” Seunghyun laughed, pushing his hair back. It was his turn to look incredulous.  
  
“First, there's no way you're keeping that stupid video. It's not just about me. Do you even remember what you said, or were you too drunk?”  
  
Seunghyun's mental wheels were still spinning on what Seungri had said a few sentences before, but the accusation spurred him to recall.  The video would show Seungri sitting on the couch, and not much more. But what Seunghyun _said_? He had teased Seungri a little, about being cute, about kissing, nothing he hadn't said to the maknae in public before.  But...wasn't there something about fucking? And Jiyong.  Fucking Jiyong?  
  
“I remember,” Seunghyun admitted, letting the hand in his hair drop heavily to his side.    
  
“Okay, so, if filming is a kink of yours, that's great, but you don't use a _phone_.  For all I know you've got your account linked to every cloud in existence just because you don't give a fuck.”   Seungri was undoing the buttons on his shirt while he spoke, which made it difficult to concentrate on his lecture.  “They still make camcorders, you know?  SD cards?  You can put whatever perverted shit you want on those, as long as you encrypt them and for god's sake, don't lose them.  Second, you don't get to fuck me unless you really fucking deserve it, and you definitely do not tonight.”  
  
He shrugged out of his shirt, revealing his broad chest and shoulders, the cut muscles on his arms, his perfect tan nipples. Seunghyun stared as he appreciated the view like it was the first time.  He used to be such a skinny kid. And that hair on his stomach, disappearing into his pants, _fuck..._  
  
“ _Seunghyun_. Do you need me to draw a picture for you? Are there any crayons around here?”  
  
“Wait,” Seunghyun mumbled, sliding away from Seungri along the wall and walking to his bag on legs that may or may not have been his. He knelt down, searching through spare socks and packs of cigarettes and other assorted crap for an embarrassingly long time. He had just touched the familiar plastic of the phone case, all the way at the bottom of the bag of course, when he sensed Seungri behind him. His presence raised the hairs on the back of Seunghyun's neck.  Seungri slid his fingers from nape to throat and back again. His touch made Seunghyun shiver, made him so hard he throbbed.  
  
“Don't get up,” Seungri said. “Turn around.”  
  
_On my knees?_  
  
The pieces began to click into place for Seunghyun. Maybe Seungri was right and he should be playing with crayons. Seunghyun almost stood up, almost ordered Seungri to leave like his gut had cried out earlier, but the chance to finally know him, to explore all the carnal avenues Seunghyun strolled down in his mind... The temptation was too powerful to set aside.  Seungri had always intrigued Seunghyun because of their basic personality differences, of the way Seungri had to mold and bend his natural leadership qualities to fit into his maknae role. Seunghyun knew they would never be best friends because of this tension, but perhaps he'd been a more blind to Seungri than he realized. Young Seungri would practically fall over himself to be noticed by the hyungs, but as the years passed he'd been less reactive to Seunghyun's teasing, let alone receptive, let alone willing to touch him first. Tonight Seunghyun had felt in control of him for the first time in a long while.  And now?  
  
He shuffled around, feeling awkward in his long body as he confronted a denim-covered bulge that practically hit him in the nose. Seungri's smile didn't reach his eyes. Seunghyun offered the phone up, trying to still his trembling fingers.  
  
“Wow, you actually have it locked now. What's your code?”  
  
“8563.”  A few swipes and taps later and the video was gone; Seunghyun hadn't made any copies, and despite Seungri's lack of faith he never connected his private folder to any cloud storage or social media apps.    
  
The phone was unceremoniously tossed back into his bag. Now there was just the matter of the dick in his face.    
  
“Don't act like you don't know what to do.”  
  
_Do I?  Do I know what to do with you?_  
  
Seunghyun pressed his lips together, his eyes drifting to the side until Seungri grabbed his jaw, directing Seunghyun's attention where he wanted it. Seungri's grip tightened as he pulled down on Seunghyun's chin.  
   
_Oh fuck, oh_ fuck.  
  
The last frayed threads of Seunghyun's hesitation snapped as he gave in and opened his mouth, his breaths panting out of him shallow and fast. He felt almost sorry when Seungri let him go, but he was just as eager to show his understanding.  
  
Seunghyun saw now Seungri's belt had a slide type of buckle, not the pin and hole his fingers had been searching for before. He unfastened it, then made short work of the button and zipper, his impatience roaring back when he saw the outline straining against red cotton briefs.  Seunghyun had never felt much about his dick – it got the job done, people seemed satisfied – but Seungri's filled him with dark excitement. If he acquiesced to his demands, he was supposed to fit _this_ in _there_.  The last person to do that had been much more...delicate in build.  
  
_Fuck, it's going to hurt._  
  
The thought made a reckless thrill turn his stomach. Seunghyun wasn't normally one for pain, but he'd ruminate on his new perversions later. One hard yank down on all the damned clothes made Seungri laugh at how his freed cock sprang up and out.  His giggles died off when Seunghyun started sucking on his inner thigh.  
  
“You're the one who's cute,” Seungri teased the first time Seunghyun chanced eye contact, “but not just cute.”  He switched from Japanese to Korean, sounding almost angry.  “You're unreal.  Your eyes, lips, everything.”  Seunghyun rumbled something like a laugh deep in his throat, running a flat tongue across Seungri's balls while his fingers threaded through his pubic hair.  He trimmed, Seunghyun noticed, but he was glad he didn't shave it off completely. Seungri's sharp gasp encouraged him to slide his palms around to grip that incredible ass, squeezing just a bit, but he didn't let his fingers stray. He wasn't sure what Seungri would let him get away with at this point.  
  
He finally started a long, slow lick up.  He had a vague idea that he might pay for his meandering, but after so much waiting, wondering, and talking himself out of it, he needed to savor the smell, taste, and feel of Seungri. His cock was hot stone covered in silk, pulsing, jerking in response to every lazy swipe of Seunghyun's tongue. He must be so sensitive, Seunghyun mused, but he endured the attention in near silence. Seunghyun let the head rub against his cheek a few times, smearing precum into the corner of his mouth. He licked it away, the salty sweetness coating his tongue and making him greedy for more.  Sometimes he'd taste his own when he touched himself, but this was better.  This was Seungri, in his mouth. A delicious power play.    
  
Seungri started to thrust, gently at first, establishing a pathway past teeth and over tongue that would be comfortable for Seunghyun. Seungri was almost polite, if it's possible to be polite about fucking someone's mouth, running his fingers through Seunghyun's thick black hair, burying them all the way down to his scalp.  Seunghyun knew what he wanted and readjusted his position, glancing up through his lashes as he let him thrust deeper.  There was no way he could take him all, not like he used to do with Jiyong.  He'd gag or worse.  
  
_Jiyong..._ He had to know.  How could he not notice the dynamic, when he'd been there first for both of them. Seunghyun used to tease Jiyong about Seungri, hiding his envy behind dirty jokes. Seunghyun tried to convey the intent of his desire, meeting Seungri's eyes with a practiced, penetrating stare. _I'll make you forget him tonight._  
  
“Shit, hyung,” Seungri groaned, finally breaking his silence, driving away Seunghyun's thoughts of the other man.  It was music to his ears, the sexiest sound in the world, sending a shiver down his spine and making him impossibly hard. “I want to come all over your perfect fucking face.”  And he thrust a little deeper, pulling his hair at the same time. The stinging made tears well up in Seunghyun's eyes. Only then did Seungri's genuine smile make an appearance, showing both rows of his even white teeth.    
  
_So maybe the rumors are true._ Seungri liked to get rough.  
  
Seunghyun was used to being on top, save the puns please.  The sex and gender of his partner were almost irrelevant to the fact that he was in control.  And now here was this guy, his natural and professional subordinate, and he had Seunghyun on his knees.  Literally on his knees.    
  
Seunghyun had never been so turned on in his life.  
  
_I'm so fucked._  
  
A light sweat broke out over Seunghyun's body. He was probably overdressed for the occasion, in a pair of pajamas, socks, and a thick hotel robe. Seungri was testing his endurance already,  yanking at his hair pretty damned hard and thrusting at a good pace too. After a few minutes he pulled out abruptly, smirking when Seunghyun's lips made a rude slurp noise on the vacuum.  
  
“Time to see if your ass is as perfect as your mouth,” Seungri said.  
  
“I haven't done that in a long time.” Seunghyun wiped his wet chin with the back of one hand, making careful eye contact.  
  
“So I'll go slow, like you're a sweet, innocent virgin.” His tone suggested they both knew that was patently untrue. He shrugged, appraising Seunghyun from head to toe.  “You're not gonna act cute about getting naked, too?”  
  
“Cute,” Seunghyun repeated. _Cute?_ Seungri knew how he felt about this.  
  
“Take your fucking clothes off,” Seungri demanded. “I've seen most of what you've got anyway and I'm not the one waving a camera around every two minutes.  You're hot, get the fuck over it.”  
  
Seunghyun coughed out a weak laugh, wishing that Seungri would help him undress, wishing they could kiss again, but he just stood there with his arms crossed and his dick relentlessly up.  Seunghyun decided to make him wait as much as possible.  He slowly untied the belt on the robe, pulled one arm out at a time, folded the garment and placed it on the corner of the bed. He repeated his glacial actions with the pajama top, except he had the added satisfaction of pausing after each button, scanning Seungri's face for signs of life.    
  
_He might as well be a Roman sculpture. Narcissus._  
  
Seunghyun pulled his pants down centimeter by centimeter, finding the guts to stop at knee level and turn around, wiggling his ass a little on purpose, but Seungri wouldn't crack for anything. He folded the pants before he faced Seungri again, his nipples reacting to the cool air despite the pink blush washing over on his upper chest, creeping up his neck to his face.  He fought the urge to cross his arms and removed his boxers instead, his speed during this last step betraying his nerves. He chanced a glance at himself. The hair above his cock was sweaty and sticky with precum already and he was pathetically hard, plum-colored with all the needy blood rushing around. Seunghyun felt his body reflected his basic mental state.  
  
“I knew yours was bigger,” Seungri said, shaking his head as he took Seunghyun in. His eyes flicked back up to Seunghyun's, black with challenge. Seunghyun said nothing, just wished Seungri would get on with it.  He didn't understand at first when Seungri nodded at his feet, but then, oh. Socks.  Seunghyun took those off, folded them, added them to the nice neat pile.    
  
Seungri's indifferent swipe put everything on the floor before he took Seunghyun's arms, turning him to face the headboard. Seungri's hands slid lower, his touch sensual and lingering, until his grip grew shockingly tight. In the next second, Seunghyun's right wrist was behind his back and locked against his left shoulder, while his left arm was pressed securely against his own waist. Seunghyun froze, realizing that a struggle would bring pain.  He guessed that wasn't the point of this gesture. Seungri proved him right, releasing Seunghyun's arm from the lock after a few seconds, but immediately encircling his throat with the same hand. Seunghyun clenched his free hand into a fist, sensing the withheld energy in Seungri's fingers, powerful and almost massaging as he pulled Seunghyun back against him. Seunghyun was glad Seungri couldn't see the smile threatening to curve his lips; he swallowed, thrilled by the slight constriction of his throat under Seungri's hand. Seunghyun's eyes rolled back when Seungri aligned his erection neatly with the cleft of Seunghyun's ass, pressing up and in, spreading him just a little. He was so hot, so thick—  
  
“I know you've got issues with authority,” Seungri said, using the same calm, cool voice from before, “but fucking try me again, hyung.”  The hand around his neck shook him with a gentle sidewise movement before it began to travel down, passing over Seunghyun's heaving chest, the back of his thumbnail scraping across one nipple.  Seungri continued over his abdomen, barely brushing Seunghyun's cock.  He cupped Seunghyun's balls instead, gently rolling before going entirely still.  Seunghyun held his breath, fearing a squeeze, but instead Seungri pushed his cock against him with renewed insistence. “The next time I tell you to do something, don't make me wait.”  
  
Seungri released him and stepped back, only to shove him again. At least this time it was onto the mattress.  Seunghyun caught himself on his hands and looked back; the expression on Seungri's face made him dizzy.  Seunghyun lowered his chest down and waited, the seconds ticking by like hours as he waited to be touched.  At last, he heard the musing _tsk_ of Seungri's tongue against the roof of his mouth, then a readying deep breath.  
  
“Use a condom,” Seunghyun murmured, heart thumping against the duvet from the adrenaline hit.    
  
“Ah, T.O.P hyung, since when are you so desperate?” Seungri replied, all casual amusement.  
  
Seunghyun cringed at his stage name, wondered why Seungri used it, stopped thinking at all when Seungri hooked one arm under his hips and lifted his ass into the air.  
  
“Spread your legs for me.”  
  
Seunghyun was expecting a spank, a pinch, anything but what he got.  This was something he'd never done with Jiyong, but they had just been horny kids, really, just—  
  
“Oh my god,” Seunghyun moaned at the soft, wet invasion. Just the tip of Seungri's tongue felt huge. Seunghyun hadn't washed for this level of intimacy, either, but he tried to push away his self-consciousness.  If he complained Seungri might just get up and leave and Seunghyun's balls would explode and he would die.    
  
_Maybe he likes it this way._  
  
Seungri's hand fondling his cock while his tongue swirled and pushed at him was a revelation, an entirely new combination of sensations.  He worked him over like this for at least a few minutes, until perhaps Seunghyun got a little too into it, his hips starting to thrust of their own accord.  The tongue stopped. Seunghyun released a shuddering breath of disappointment, or maybe relief.  
  
“Are you gonna come?” The scorn in Seungri's voice made Seunghyun's stomach flip again.  
  
“No.”  Seunghyun felt like that was the right thing to say, even if it wasn't exactly the truth.  
  
“Do _not_ come.”  
  
Seunghyun's dick gave a warning lurch just at the words.  
  
“I'm gonna come.”  
  
“What the fuck did I just say?” Seungri's indignance did nothing to assuage Seunghyun's excitement.  
  
“If you keep doing that–!”  Panic made Seunghyun's voice much higher than normal.  
  
Seungri stopped stroking at the last second,  squeezing the hell out of the head of Seunghyun's dick. The little shit had the audacity to laugh at the grunt Seunghyun made as the dull throb hit him, every nerve ending between his legs outraged at the denial. Seunghyun had to admit that Seungri's cruelty was not without skill, but he'd barely had a chance to recover before Seungri started playing with his ass again, this time with the pad of one thoughtful finger.  
  
“You don't come until I say, understand?”  
  
Seunghyun sighed and laughed some sort of helpless agreement.  He wasn't sure he had any reliable control over himself at this point. Case in point: he was letting _Seungri_ play with his asshole. Just letting him do it.  
  
“Do you have any lube?” Seungri asked.  
  
“Uh...side pocket of my bag, I think,” Seunghyun said.  
  
“I hope that's where the condoms are, too,” Seungri said, taking his hands away.    
  
“Yes.” Seunghyun listened to his feet pad over the carpet.  
  
There was a rustling noise, an interval where Seunghyun was alone with his ass in the air, feeling like an utter fool.  Then the bed jostled again and he sighed with relief.  The lube was cool, slippery, sliding over his hole and down the back of his balls.  
  
“I'm putting my fingers in, okay?  Tell me if it hurts.”  That was new this evening.  Seungri cared.  
   
“Fingers. As in more than one,” Seunghyun said, uncertain if he was really dubious or just teasing Seungri out of habit.  
  
“You have done this before, right? I mean, you wanted to do it to me,” Seungri said.  
  
“Yeah.”  Seunghyun didn't know what he wanted anymore.  Besides an orgasm. That was a definite yes.  
  
“And you saw my dick is bigger than my finger, right?”  
  
“Yeah.”  _Just a little._   Seunghyun almost laughed and managed to hold it in.  
  
“And you know you have a tight little asshole, right?”  
  
“Uhh–”  
  
“We have to convince it that it's a slut that loves to be fucked, because it is.  _You_ are.”  Seungri was rubbing the pad of his finger around as he spoke, experimentally pressing from time to time.  “You need to stop clenching up.”  
  
“I'm not doing it on purpose,” Seunghyun said.    
  
“Relax. Find a happy place, hyung. Gallery. Bottom of a bottle.”  
  
Seunghyun couldn't think of a witty reply, so he just did as he was told. He found himself imagining a piece he'd been eying for a week or so, trying to decide if he wanted it for himself or someone else. There were velvety soft indentations of black on black, radiating in concentric circles from a lurid scarlet core... He'd closed his eyes without realizing. The world snapped back into focus, dusty synapses lighting up as Seungri slipped inside him.  Seunghyun held his breath.  
  
“Don't hold your breath.”  
  
Seunghyun let out the breath.    
  
“Are you okay?” Seungri asked.  
  
“Yes?” Seunghyun said.  
  
“Does it hurt?”  Seungri turned his finger in a slow circle.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Tell me when it feels good.”    
  
_Not if, but when._  
  
Seunghyun watched a couple minutes flick by on the digital clock next to the bed.  
  
“Hyung,” Seungri said.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I'm all the way in. My middle finger.”  He wiggled it. Seunghyun stared at the clock.  “How's it feel?”  
  
“I don't know. Strange,” Seunghyun said, the clipped quality of his speech revealing his discomfort. He shut his eyes against a discomfiting, exciting swell of embarrassment, watching the afterimages of digital numbers float behind his lids.  
  
“Hmm...”  The angle of Seungri's finger changed.  He stroked Seunghyun inside, then took him in hand outside as well.  “How about now?”  
  
Seunghyun kept his eyes closed, not committing to an answer until he felt more settled.  
  
“I think I'm in the right spot,” Seungri said with confidence.  Indeed, he was pumping out some slick stuff, coating Seunghyun's entire length with self-produced lubricant.  Seunghyun would have been impressed by how fucking much of it there was, but he was rapidly approaching the point of no return. Until he remembered it wasn't allowed.  His eyes popped open as he spoke, trying to distract himself.  
  
“It doesn't really feel like much.  My ass, I mean,” he admitted. Seungri _hmm_ ed at him again.  
  
“My hyung is a size queen,” Seungri decided.  “Another finger, okay? Push out.”  
  
Seungri went out with Seunghyun's push – quick, smooth – and before Seunghyun could close back up there was an index finger added to the middle.  Seunghyun couldn't help but grunt again, the stretch taking him by surprise.  Seungri leaned in against his back, putting weight and pressure behind his movements.    
  
“So messy,” Seungri remarked, pleased.  
  
Seunghyun didn't know if he meant in front or in back, but finally things were syncing up.  He moved his hips with Seungri's stroking hand, tentatively seeking more sensation there, and gasped when the best feeling actually came from his ass sliding on the fingers.  Seungri laughed again.  
  
“How long do I have to finger you?  Or are you ready for more?”  He palmed Seunghyun's ass with the fingers that weren't buried inside him, leaning down even further to drag the warm skin of his chest through the sweat beaded between Seunghyun's shoulder blades.  
  
“Do what you want,” Seunghyun muttered, the pressure on his prostate making dark stars explode behind his eyes.  Seungri's chuckle was low, throaty.  It was the right answer.  
  
“Mmm, hyung.  If you could only see your tight hole around my fingers.  Maybe I should get out your phone to take a video for you.”    
  
“Seungri...”  Seunghyun was too close again. He bit down on his lip, trying to conjure up a thought distracting enough to buy him some time.  
  
Seungri sighed, dramatic and long suffering, taking his hands away with some reluctance.  The crackle of the condom wrapper made Seunghyun's heart race.  He wasn't afraid of the pain, but he was still standing on some sort of precipice.  To let him do this, literally let him in–  
  
Seungri's palm settled on his shoulder, light at first and then pressing down as he angled his hips for the best entry.  Then he paused, his fingers stroking a small, questioning circle.  
  
“Hyung? It's okay?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Seungri touched him again with a heavily lubed hand, dipping a finger in, this time pulling side-to-side.  Seunghyun fought the urge to tense up.  Seungri took his finger out and replaced it immediately with the head of his cock.  The pressure built and built. Seunghyun realized he was inside when it started to burn.  His fingers gripped the sheets as his body sent urgent _out-out-out_ signals; he shivered and broke out in goosebumps, involuntary spasms of his ass making him bite at the inside of his cheek. Seungri stopped.  
  
“This is the widest part,” Seungri said. Seunghyun felt him apply more blessedly cool lube before the slick hand slid around his hip to grip his cock again. Seungri's smart thumb found his frenulum and rubbed gently against the sensitive ridge.  “It's okay?” he repeated.  
  
“Yes,” Seunghyun said, taking a deep breath in, letting it out. Willing himself to relax, for his body to adjust. On the next breath in, Seungri made his final push. Seunghyun felt Seungri's pubic bone coming to rest against the sweaty skin of his ass. Seungri held the position, taking a long, steady breath in, then made a slow circle with his hips to settle himself.  Seunghyun pressed back into him, tentative, just to see if it would help.  
  
“Fuck, hyung,” Seungri hissed through his teeth, betraying his excitement for the first time. “Can you tell I'm being so nice to you right now? I want to pound you so _fucking_ bad.”  
  
Seunghyun, overwhelmed, said nothing and stopped moving.  Seungri's thumb kept toying with his most sensitive spot, sliding up over the tip of him, then dragging the slippery fluid back down.  
  
“You know you can take it,” Seungri whispered, pulling out just a little.  Seunghyun's breath hitched at the dull throbbing, the stretch beyond anything he'd felt before.  There was also a dim spark of pleasure, though the thought of what was happening was more arousing than anything he felt.  That, and the noises Seungri made as he began to move, the things he said. “God, Seunghyun, you're such a fast learner. I always knew you were hot, but I had no idea how _good_ you would be. You're being fucked by me right now, do you like it?”  
  
Sweat ran into Seunghyun's eye from his temple, making it tear up like crazy.  He moaned, rubbing his face against the bedding again.     
  
“Answer me, Seunghyun,” Seungri said, a pointed thrust reinforcing his demand.  
  
“I like it,” Seunghyun said, turning his head to the side for a gasp of fresh air.  
  
“How does my dick feel in your ass?”  
  
“Big.”  It wasn't a lie, and the pain wasn't letting up.  There was nothing to be done about it, or the soreness he could look forward to tomorrow.  Except maybe to let Seungri do this again, and again, until Seunghyun's body remembered the shape and size of him.  Seunghyun imagined Seungri sliding into him with no resistance, his body just taking it, wanting it. With that thought there was a familiar tension in his balls. He held his breath, looked at the clock. 11:27 PM. If he made it to 11:30 it'd be a miracle.  
  
“Next time I'm doing you on your back,” Seungri said, as if he was making a task list.  “I want to see your face.  It's your face that makes everyone want you the second they see you, do you understand?  Everyone wants to fuck you–”  
  
Seungri sped up, talking himself into a steady rhythm.  If he hadn't been so out of his mind with the ache inside and the ache of holding back, Seunghyun might have been annoyed at how he couldn't shut the hell up, but all he could think was  
  
_Next time._   11:28.  
  
“But _you_ wanted _me_ ,” Seungri panted.  “Now you're getting me, right?” He dug his nails into Seunghyun's shoulder with the next thrust, one so hard it jarred Seunghyun's entire body.    
  
“Fuck!” Seunghyun clenched his teeth after the one utterance, but it was too late. He bit down on something soft near his mouth, trying to stifle the deep moans that wrenched out of him now with each movement of Seungri's hips.  It was too much, he couldn't help it.  
  
“Ahhh, you love it so much,” Seungri laughed, sounding nearly breathless.  Maybe he'd have to stop talking.  He barely touched Seunghyun's cock now, just brushing his fingertips against it to drive him mad. Meanwhile the hand on Seunghyun's shoulder slid over to weigh down the back of his neck.  Seunghyun couldn't tell if it was from sweat or if it was deliberate, but either way it was slightly alarming. And Seungri was right – he was getting off on this more than he could have ever dreamed.  
  
Maybe just because it was Seungri?    
  
11:29.  Seungri was leaning on him so heavily, making him bear his weight, fucking him like they'd be dead tomorrow, hitting his prostate on every stroke. It hurt and it burned and it was so disturbingly good Seunghyun thought he would lose his mind. His legs were shaking so much.  
  
“I need to come,” he croaked.  
  
“Ask,” was the reply.  
  
_Fuck._ Seunghyun was too desperate to fight.  
  
“Can I come?”  
  
“Say. Please.” Those two thrusts were simply unfair.  
  
“Ughhhhh, fuck— _please_ –”  
  
“No.”  
  
Seunghyun pushed up at the injustice of it, as if to buck Seungri off of him. Seungri pushed back, slid to a stop, as deep in as he could get. Then he ground against Seunghyun in that place that made Seunghyun want to scream.  
  
“Want me to stop?  Want to stop?” Seungri asked. He was winded, but Seunghyun could hear the perverted smile shaping his words.  
  
_If he stops, I'll kill him._  
  
“Fuck you, Seungri!” It was all Seunghyun could do.  He was done.  
  
“Shut up and come,” Seungri snarled, gripping Seunghyun's cock and starting to jerk, being too rough, pushing his head into the mattress, driving into him hard enough to make a slapping noise Seunghyun was pretty sure the next room could hear...and yeah, he was doing it all on purpose.    
   
Seunghyun let go with a muffled sob, his orgasm wrenching out of him with such ferocity that he had to freeze, except for his involuntary contractions on Seungri and in his hand. They were almost too much to bear, but Seungri held him so tightly he couldn't move away.  
  
“Oh my god, you feel so fucking good,” Seungri whispered, stopping his thrusts to milk the last drops of thick fluid from Seunghyun. He smeared what was on his hand across Seunghyun's back.  
  
Seunghyun slumped down, unable to maintain the position Seungri had set for him – how many minutes ago?  Not even twenty?  
  
Seungri finally let up on his head, using both hands to tuck Seunghyun's ass snug against his hips. He started to move again, never fully withdrawing from Seunghyun, using short, hard strokes until he finished in relative silence, only his erratic breaths giving him away.    
  
Seunghyun was limp with relief, devoid of thought. Seungri laid on top of him, right in the mess he'd made on Seunghyun's back, not pulling out just yet.  His hands stroked absently up and down Seunghyun's sides, almost tickling, until he stopped moving entirely. Pain in the ass or not, Seunghyun was seconds from passing out. The clock wavered in his vision.  
  
“ _Whoa_ , you bit that little pillow so much, look at the teeth marks—hyung, you drooled!”  
  
 Seungri's voice – the familiar, cutesy one – brought Seunghyun back.  
  
“Fuck the pillow,” he grumbled, arching his back again in a clear signal.  
  
“I'm done for tonight, thanks.”  Seungri made his point by slipping out of Seunghyun and rolling over next to him.  Seunghyun heard the snap of wet latex.  
  
“Spare me your jokes that only an idiot would appreciate,” Seunghyun said.  But god, he was too tired to keep talking, too raw to laugh. His lids fluttered.  
  
Seungri touched his cheek with the back of his hand, just briefly, but Seunghyun kept his eyes shut; he felt him get off the bed.  
  
“Hyung?”  
  
Seunghyun cracked one eye open, rising from a black depth.  How long had he been asleep? Seungri was dressed, as nice and neat as when he'd come in, hair combed back into place.  You'd never know. Seunghyun could smell himself, sweat and sex oozing from every pore.  
  
“I know what people say about me.  But I'm clean. I'm careful.  And if we're going to do this, you're the only man. Out of respect, hyung.  I hope you agree to the same.”  
  
Seunghyun just looked at him, his brain struggling to keep up. _Respect? Only man?_ Seungri's laugh this time was uncertain, seeking approval.  This was the Seungri from before, the one he'd thought he knew.  
  
“It's just sex, hyung, right?”  
  
Seunghyun managed an eyeroll. His voice scratched out of him, gravelly, overused.  
  
“I'm tired, Seungri.”  
  
Seungri stiffened at the dismissal and–  
  
_Did he just fucking bow?_  
  
Seunghyun closed his eyes again, holding sleep at bay until he heard his room door open and shut.  What was he going to do with this maknae?


	3. Seoul studio

He needn't have wondered, because it wasn't up to him. Seungri was one obdurate son of a bitch; if Seunghyun wanted to fuck, fine – but he was going to _get_ fucked. Seunghyun couldn't figure out how to flip it around, and every time he brought it up Seungri just went blank in the face.  It pissed him off so fucking bad. Then two minutes later he'd catch Seungri looking at him from across the room like he wanted to eat him alive and he decided he didn't care, he just wanted Seungri's tongue in his mouth (and in his ass) right the fuck now.    
  
The other part that really messed with his head was that it was always up to him to initiate. Seungri never asked him for anything, and would only respond to phone calls or in person requests.  Seunghyun found himself in little crises of confidence every other day.  Was he asking too much?  Not enough?  He wanted it ten times more than he got it, felt like he was fucking starving.  He started pestering Kyungil when he was too embarrassed to call Seungri, dragging him out for late night donuts or fried chicken or burgers or whatever the fuck gross fast food he could stuff in his face.  
  
His frustration was very slightly alleviated by the inherent power given to him by society.  In public he was still the hyung, enjoying absolute dominance over the maknae.  He picked at Seungri relentlessly,  either teasing or criticizing. Each glare or sullen glance from Seungri stoked a hot coal in his stomach, because he knew Seungri would pay him back in full.    
  
He should've known Jiyong would call him out. He was the one to smooth over any disputes in the group, always hypersensitive to their emotional states.  They were sitting at the mixer late one evening, revising some vocal takes for an upcoming single.  Seungri wasn't even in the building, but when his voice filled the air Seunghyun could hardly stand it. He dealt with the flurry in his chest by snorting it away.    
  
“He always fucks that note up, it's flat.”  
  
Jiyong narrowed his eyes.  He'd personally approved that take seconds after Seungri sang it.  It was flawless.  Seungri was Bigbang's most consistent vocalist these days, despite his dwindling interest in singing. Jiyong had been wracking his brain, trying to figure out how to pull Seungri back in, and he wouldn't stand for undue criticism directed his way.  
  
“Hyung,” he murmured, in that quiet tone that implied _with all due respect, I am about to tell you how it is_. “Why are you riding his ass so hard lately?”  
  
Seunghyun's coffee almost went down the wrong pipe.    
  
_I'm the one who could barely fucking move yesterday!_  
  
Jiyong's eyes grew even smaller.  Better think fast.  
  
“I'm not.” _Oh yeah, that was convincing._ But since it was technically the truth, he decided to give Jiyong another grain. “I'm just gonna miss him.  I'm trying to make some memories for all those lonely nights.”  
  
Now it was Jiyong's turn to snort at the double entendre and Seunghyun's dimpled smirk.  
  
“I'll miss you _all_ , Jiyongie oppa,” Seunghyun said, leaning in and turning on the stare.  He knew Jiyong couldn't be manipulated by him anymore, but it didn't mean he wouldn't like the tease.    
  
“Fuck off,” Jiyong said in English, gnawing on one painted nail as he turned back to the console.  
  
_Success_.  Seunghyun sat back, drowning his relief with another gulp of coffee. The less questions Jiyong asked, the better.  He wasn't born yesterday and Seunghyun didn't want to lie to him. What he wanted for his ever-scrutinized leader was plausible deniability.  
  
“We're using this take.  Daesung's next, and I know you won't have shit to say because you wanna marry him.”  
  
“Who doesn't.” But instead of sweet Daesung, Seunghyun's distracted mind flashed up an impression of Seungri in a groom's hanbok. He could see every stitch in the cloth, so vivid was the vision, and Seungri's dreamy, lovestruck grin.    
  
_What the fuck. No._  
  
“Why do you keep making a face?  You wanna be here or what?” Jiyong waved an irritated palm in front of Seunghyun's eyes.  
  
Seunghyun grunted an apology and closed his eyes, listening to his friend sing about a girl. 


	4. Il communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for the pun but dang, how about them Beastie Boys?)

Seunghyun slumped against the wall in the shower, considered masturbating, felt utterly bored by the idea.  And yet he was so damned horny.  He hadn't heard from Seungri for over a week.  Youngbae of all people was the one to inform him that their maknae was in Hong Kong again.  He hadn't put anything on social media, hadn't responded to any group chats unless directly addressed.  Seunghyun supposed he couldn't blame him, since he often pulled the same crap. But why couldn't Seungri at least send a text?  The last time they'd been together was just a quickie after a photo shoot, Seungri bending Seunghyun over his own immaculate kitchen counter, smearing it up with their sweat and lube and Seunghyun's makeup. Seungri had to stand on his toes to get at him, which Seunghyun thought was so fucking cute. He'd offered to take a shower with him after, but Seungri never wanted to stick around his place. Seunghyun wasn't sure if he should be offended or admire his discretion, but either way, the memory made him feel more turned on and lonely than ever.  
  
Fuck it, he'd try him on LINE when he got out of the shower. And he'd stay out of the kitchen.  
  
> _Busy Lee Seungri. Your hyung told me you might have a new dramatic project. I was surprised, but I shouldn't be. I hope you are happy and healthy._  
  
He waited while he had his first cigarette of the day. No answer. He got dressed, drank some coffee, smoked again, called his mother.  
  
No answer.  
  
Replied to an email from his financial manager. Smoked. Looked at Instagram, crafted an expressive selca series, not that Seungri hung around much there these days. Scrolled through the flood of tortured and titillated fan responses.  _Oppa, oppa, oppa..._ They all cried out for him within seconds of posting,  but from the person he wanted, no answer. He really wanted to smoke again, but his throat always started junking up after the third cigarette and he had promised Jiyong he'd go into the studio today to cut a new solo track.  He sort of wanted to make YG wait on it a while longer, just because, but he hated to disappoint Jiyong. He'd sang a few lines for him already, watched his eyes light up. He had to admit he wanted it for himself, too. There were itches he needed to scratch before he lost all feeling.  
  
How had his dick become so distracting? It was embarrassing, especially at his age. He worried his lip and sighed, hating himself for succumbing to self-pity.  
  
He wanted Seungri, but it seemed like everyone else wanted him these days, too. There was quite a line and Seunghyun didn't know his place. He decided to send one last message before he cut himself off.  He would just be direct. It wasn't the group chat. No one had to see.  
  
> _I miss you._  
  
That was sort of a euphemism for how he actually felt, but it fit the situation.  
  
Of course the pabo called while Seunghyun was in the car, so they couldn't really talk.    
  
“T.O.P hyung,” Seungri said, his voice pretty and bright in that way that meant he was in public with someone listening in.    
  
“Yeah.” Seunghyun fought to keep his voice even, but his throat felt too tight already.  
  
“I got your message, thank you for your support. Everything's great!”  
  
“That's good.”  
  
Seungri cleared his throat; Seunghyun could tell his deadpan reply had put Seungri off-kilter. He felt a strange mix of regret and satisfaction burn in his chest.  
  
_What do you fucking expect, ignoring me._  
  
“Jiyong hyung told me you were recording today,” Seungri said, trying to rally.  “I'm so excited to hear your song.”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
“I am!  I really am! You know Doom Dada is my favorite.”  Seungri was trying so hard.  
  
“I guess.”  
  
“Aish,” Seungri laughed nervously.  Someone called his name in the background, whether greeting or beckoning Seunghyun couldn't tell. Seungri replied sweetly in Mandarin. Seunghyun couldn't make out a single word.  
  
“You sound very busy.” Seunghyun knew it was a mistake to reveal himself like this, but he was too pissed.  
  
“I am, hyung, it's been so crazy—”  
  
“Then I'll say goodbye, and good luck.  Youngbae can tell me when you're home. Or maybe Jiyong.”  
  
_Since you're talking to them, but not to me._  
  
“T.O.P hyung, before you go.” The motherfucker sounded smooth as glass now.  Seunghyun tightened his jaw as Seungri continued. “I was wondering about your schedule. There are some people here who want to meet you, for a film...with me.  For when you get back, of course.”  
  
The surprise hit Seunghyun in a tingling wave, but he pushed it down.  
  
“Are you just saying this to impress strangers?”  
  
“Hyung...”    
  
_There it fucking is._ Beseeching. Or manipulating.  
  
“I have to go, Seungri.”    
  
He ended the call before Seungri could speak again.  It wasn't a lie; he was almost to the YG building. Seungri wanted to call him T.O.P, right, still needed him to be T.O.P. So he had to shake this shit off and get back into that mode – the existential dreamer, the artist, master of his universe.  
  
Seungri's voice filled his mind one last time, that same questioning tone of voice.  
  
_It's just sex, hyung, right?_  
  
Seunghyun deliberately ignored his phone for the rest of the day, focusing on the fierce pleasure of destroying the silence of the recording booth.  Choice was beside himself.  
  
“You're aggro as hell, bro. The guys will go nuts and the ladies will cream themselves. No one can touch you.”  
  
Seunghyun smiled faintly.  He didn't want to get ahead of himself, and he was all too aware of the fickle nature of idol fans. This track might alienate a fair few of them, just like the previous one.  But maybe he should send Seungri a thank you message for the productivity boost.  
   
He pulled up LINE when they broke for dinner, because he couldn't help but check.  17 unread: 1 from Kwon Jiyong, 2 from Song Kyungil, and 14 from Lee Seungri. 14? Jesus. His heartrate kicked up. He made himself read Jiyong's first.  Said he'd heard good things from Choice, hwaiting, also that he was a fucker for holding out on him, and Mino would die from happiness if he'd offer him a feature, just saying hyung.  Kyungil was second, asking him out for drinks.  That could definitely be arranged, Seunghyun needed a fucking drink or ten.  Finally he tapped Seungri's name.  
  
> _How could I use your name in that way? It belongs to you (frown face)_  
> _I am sorry, but it's true I am caught up in this film business right now! I need your advice_  
> _I couldn't say no to this trip, last second.  I'm so sick of hotels_  
> _I am taking good care, eating vitamins, sleeping when I can  (sleep face)_  
> _Your messages make me feel so much, I value your opinion so much_  
_> You are the hyung with the most tender heart (tear face) _  
> _Can you forgive and believe in me_  
> _If I say I never forget you, even in my busiest moment_  
> _I consider my hyung too much_  
> _I knew you were working hard too_  
> _I worry about you, you are quite thin_  
> _I want you to come here, if you can_  
> _I know the best places to eat, the best place for drinking!_  
> _I miss you too hyung!_  
  
Seunghyun let out the breath he'd been holding, hearing Seungri's voice in his head as he read the messages, swinging rapidly from sulk to sweet to shout. It was like watching a performance of tragic clowns. He read them all again.  
  
He pressed the fingers of one hand into his eyes and shoved his phone in his back pocket, fighting off a sudden urge. Tears came easily these days, for any or no reason, but he couldn't give in to them right now. Choice would expect Seunghyun to be on point; he was almost as exacting as Jiyong, even moreso when he thought they had a hit.  
  
Later, Seunghyun asked Kyungil if he wouldn't mind just coming over to his place.  He had wine, of course.    
  
“You feeling okay?” his friend asked, stretching his long frame over the couch but taking care not to put his feet on the upholstery.  He knew how Seunghyun could get about his furniture.    
  
Seunghyun swished dark liquid around his mouth, hardly tasting it.  He shrugged.  He knew if he said nothing that Kyungil would drop it.  
  
“Can I take a picture with you?” Seunghyun asked.  Kyungil chuckled, his long eyes sliding toward his friend.  Classic Choi diversion.  
  
“What, to post?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
They both knew what people would say, but they seemed to say it about Seunghyun with almost anyone. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it with Kyungil.  He was physically perfect, almost intimidating in spite of their long friendship...but Kyungil was straight.  Kyungil was the person he could call and just hang out with listening to music, talking a little, drinking a lot.  Just like he intended to do tonight.     
  
Kyungil sat up when Seunghyun perched next to him on the couch.  They both put on their best editorial face, laughing as each picture got less focused and more stupid.  Seunghyun posted several, deleting them almost as quickly.  He kept up the first shot, the best one, then asked Kyungil to sit in the center of the couch for one last photo.  He acquiesced, hanging his head down between his knees.    
  
“Very moody,” Seunghyun said, tapping through filters on the edit screen.  
  
“Just trying to emulate your aesthetic.”  
  
“Fuck you.”  He posted the shot, which he actually quite liked, ostensibly to show off the new painting over the couch.  
  
The comments came flooding in.  He didn't read them for some time; Kyungil had a playlist of new songs he wanted him to hear, and some old stuff he knew Seunghyun would like.  They listened, commenting occasionally, refilling their glasses often.  Kyungil fell asleep first, snoring softly under the painting.  Seunghyun stared at it, knowing he was drunk off his ass but feeling all right as long as he didn't move his head too fast.  
  
He pulled out his phone. There were the typical comments, the hearts, the sighs, the slightly-to-very lewd descriptions of what they wanted to do to him.  And then there were ones that he didn't know why he bothered to to read, unless it was a form of self-flagellation.  Or maybe he actually liked to get angry.  
  
> _this guy AGAIN how can u cheat on ur dragon?_  
> _Oppa, no_  
> _Don't be with men, you are sick..._  
  
He fired off a reply of his own, knowing it'd be picked up by one of those fan accounts that logged every move he made, too blitzed to give a fuck.  
  
> _Don't be ignorant._  
  
Let them gossip over what he could possibly mean, it should keep them busy for the next few years.  And fuck Yang too if he gave him shit for it. His friendship with Jiyong would never be the same because of the shit they were explicitly told to do – or not to do – and it was fucked up, anytime he ever really wanted something it got fucked up–  
  
The words on the phone swam in front of his face; he blinked back the tears before a sudden assault from a jaw-cracking yawn.  He looked over at Kyungil's slack face, supposing he should roll him on his side.  He got up to do it, then had to sit down heavily next to the couch.    
  
_Maybe I'll just sleep here._  
  
His phone made a soft ping noise.  He had notifications off for Instagram, but the personal stuff was still on.  It was LINE. It was Seungri.  
  
> _You posted a lot of nice pictures today. Say hi to Kyungil hyung for me._  
  
Seunghyun's sadness left him with an almost audible pop. His smile was so wide he felt like it might split his face and his heart raced with triumph. He considered not answering for about one second.  
  
_I'm acting like a fucking kid. Fuck it._  
  
> _Can I see a picture of you?_  
  
He sent it before he could chicken out.  
  
There was a slight delay, then LINE blipped again.  It was just a typical selca, really, Seungri being the old pro that he was.  He was in a hotel room, standing in front of a full-length mirror, wearing that black and white striped polo that showed off his arms so well. Soft smile, little wave.  His jeans, though, were tight as fuck, showing off something less soft, less little.  
  
Seunghyun pulled his legs against his chest, rocking a bit in place, realizing that was Seungri just now and feeling actual pain that he couldn't touch him.  LINE pinged again and he scrabbled to pick the phone up.  
  
> _Heading out soon.  Have a nice night, hyung. Take good care._  
  
He composed and deleted half a dozen replies before deciding to keep silent.  His buzz was fading along with his arousal at the thought of Seungri going out...where?  He knew where.  He'd probably see a picture of him pop up later, posing with a glistening girl or a red-faced guy.  Seunghyun used to be into clubbing, especially with Jiyong, but it held almost no appeal for him anymore. Meanwhile, Seungri was turning fun and friends into business opportunities until the two were almost indistinguishable.  Seungri could have fun anywhere as long as there were people ready to laugh with him.  Seungri was definitely a nicer person than him, Seunghyun concluded. He got to his feet with a groan,  turning Kyungil and padding the floor beneath the couch with pillows just in case. He shuffled off to his bedroom and collapsed on the mattress fully clothed.    
  
_Shit_.  He had to get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow and get to the studio.  He could blow it off, but he knew Choice was right.  This track could be good, really good, if he'd pull his head out of his ass long enough to do it justice.    
  
He peered at the phone once more, intending to set his alarm.  There was one more LINE notification.  He tapped it.    
  
This one was just Seungri's face, his jaw tilted up in that smug, sexy, “you know you love me” expression he used in every other picture of himself. Seunghyun realized he'd used the same exact face tonight with Kyungil.  Seungri's final message appeared:  
  
> _I think our selca would be better._  
  
Seunghyun's fingers moved on autopilot after that, setting his clock and making sure he was all set for the next day.


	5. Hong Kong hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song reference is Girl's Day “Expectation” -  
> https://colorcodedlyrics.com/2013/03/girl-s-day-geolseudei-gidaehae-expectation

He wouldn't pretend like this was a reasonable thing to do.  To start with, the chartered plane was exorbitantly expensive.  It wasn't private – there were other movers and shakers on board, far more important than rapper-idol-actor-art enthusiast Choi Seunghyun – but the last minute booking had still cost him big.  But fuck, it'd be worth it just to skirt the usual airport security theater. He was also choosing a personal matter over work, which was sometimes worth it but could just as easily be misguided.  Seunghyun knew himself too well, knew how he could get in over his head if he allowed himself to relax his control. But fuck, he'd already done that. He'd practically _ceded_ it at this point.  He was afraid that he'd wake up tomorrow kicking his own ass around the block.  He was too busy, had too much to do before his conscription. But fuck, the song was almost finished. It wasn't like he'd forget about the song.  He could be back in Seoul by tomorrow.  
  
The scariest part was that he knew Seungri would see this as A Gesture. How would Seunghyun explain it? At least Seungri had suggested a pretense with the potential movie deal.  For the two of them. Seunghyun was sometimes in awe that Bigbang's maknae had cultivated so much influence.  
  
He slung the strap of his overnight bag across his shoulders as he deplaned directly onto the tarmac,  just the one bodyguard at his side. This man Seunghyun hired specifically for trips like this. He never asked questions and was as big as an ox. Seunghyun felt like a robot as he walked stone-faced with the others toward a fleet of slick, black hire cars.  
  
The drive downtown was uneventful, too quiet.  It'd been awhile since Seunghyun had traveled alone with such a light security detail. Usually he was in a car with at least one other member, or more often in a van with all of them, plus a host of managers and coordinators and stylists, people he'd known for years.  Loud, busy, maybe not always happy but at least familiar.  
  
The hotel room was similarly too quiet.  He checked in under an assumed name, but there was always the paranoia that the staff would recognize him, sell him out.  It was still early.  He wondered if Seungri was awake yet or sleeping off the booze.  
  
_He doesn't drink as much as you, though.  Maybe he went out to actually socialize with other human beings._  
  
That thought led to another, more irritating one.  
  
_Maybe he isn't alone._  
  
Seunghyun smoked on the balcony, one after the other with his essential coffee.  
  
_Self-destructive behaviors, Choi,_ he chided himself.  He'd blown through half the pack without realizing.  _Gross._  
  
Finally he worked up enough courage to call Seungri.  The waiting during the rings was agony – but then:  
  
“Hey, hyung.”  Seungri's sleepy voice was so cute.  It conjured up sweet images of a tousle-headed teenager, padding around their dorm in bare feet and cartoon character pajama pants.  
  
“Did I wake you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Liar.”  When Seungri laughed Seunghyun stubbed his last cigarette out in the corpses of the others, jumping to his feet with sudden energy.  He slid open the balcony door, heading to the mirror to make sure his hair looked good.  
  
“Hyung...you didn't say whether or not you liked my pictures.”   The little pout in Seungri's voice was fake, but the tease was real.  
  
_I wonder if he still wakes up hard._  
  
Seungri's morning wood had been famous in the dorm. Even though Youngbae also suffered from a serious case, Seungri's maknae position (and bigger, harder to hide bulge) meant he took the brunt of the teasing. Seunghyun felt his own cock stiffen in response to another trip down memory lane.  
  
“I liked them. I liked your outfit. What are you wearing now?”  Seunghyun bit his lip, slightly scandalized by himself.  This was all pretty tame shit, considering what he'd said on phones in the past, but with Seungri it felt exciting and new.  
  
Seungri's laugh was everything.  
  
“I'm not telling you.”  
  
“Will you send me another picture, then?”  
  
“Only if you send me one first.”  Seungri's voice was getting rougher, like when they were together. Alone. Seunghyun couldn't wait any longer.  
  
“I'm better looking in person.”  
  
“It's true,” Seungri sighed. “But I'll take what I can get.”  
  
“How does getting breakfast sound?  You said something about showing me the best places to eat.”  
  
“Um, what?”  
  
“Where do you usually go when you're here?  I always just have room service, I don't know,” Seunghyun said.  
  
“Here?  Where's here?  Are you _here?_ ”  Seungri was getting louder with each word, his voice booming out with enthusiasm.    
  
_Oh Seungri._  
  
“I am,” Seunghyun said, stuffing his wallet into his jacket pocket. “Where are you, specifically?”  
  
“I'm at the Sheraton! T.O.P hyung, you're really here?!”  
  
“I'll be there in ten minutes.”  
  
“I have to take a shower!”  
  
Seunghyun almost said something like, _Wait for me_ , but he pulled back.  It was easy to get caught up in Seungri's exuberance; between that and the nostalgic feelings he was getting a little...  
  
_I don't know._  
  
His instincts told him to slow down, to remember who he was. Who _they_ were. Seungri just called him T.O.P again – ostensibly T.O.P was here to investigate a movie lead with his dongsaeng.  He guessed hanging out in bed all day wasn't really an option.  
  
“Fifteen, then?” Seunghyun asked.  
  
“Okay! I'll meet you in that lounge on the lobby floor, do you remember? Have the driver go in the garage, do you–”  
  
“I remember.”    
  
“Okay!  I'll see you soon!”  
  
“See you soon.”  
  
The drive to Seungri's hotel seemed longer than the trip from the airport. A pulse in Seunghyun's neck throbbed as he headed down the featureless hallway to the hotel's private bar and lounge.  He wondered if his guard could see that his hands were shaking.    
  
_He might see some shit he shouldn't._  
  
Seunghyun would try to behave.  
  
Seungri was waiting for him, looking super clean and delicious in gray suit pants and a white button down, open at the throat. His black hair was parted on the side, damp and softly curling in the front.  He stood up from his chair as soon as he spotted Seunghyun and bowed.  
  
_Jesus, what is with that?_   Seungri used to nod at most, and Seunghyun had often suspected it was only a display for people who didn't know them well. _Maybe he's just trying to get a rise out of you. Hell, it's working._   Seunghyun stopped short a couple feet away, clenching his fists to stop the urge to reach out and grab.  
  
“Why are you so–?”  Seunghyun let his eyes travel the full length of Seungri's body, devouring every detail.  Seungri looked down, then back up with a wry smile.  
  
“This is a work meeting, right?”  
  
“Aish,” Seunghyun said, even though Seungri's statement exactly confirmed his earlier intuition.  
  
Seungri suddenly swept him into a hug, the warmth of his body feeling more like a scald to Seunghyun. He went stiff; Seungri was merciful and released him.    
  
“Let's go eat, I'm starving,” Seungri urged, taking Seunghyun's hand and heading back down the hallway.  “Your car is still here, right?”  
  
“It better be.”  Seunghyun looked up from their paired hands – _Whoa!_ – and returned Seungri's little grin.  
  
Over breakfast – western style, like Hong Kong did so well – Seungri explained what had been going on with him, why he was so M.I.A.  Seunghyun felt his heart swell with every word, he was so proud.  This was a lead role, Seungri said, he was _the_ man.  It was a drama, yes, but not just romantic. The story was solid, the role was complex. And the lead actress?    
  
“Look,” Seungri said, pulling out his phone.  Seunghyun took it, stifling a light belch.  He hadn't eaten so much for weeks.  
  
“Wow,” Seunghyun replied, handing it back.    
  
“She's very popular right now,” Seungri beamed, showing both rows of teeth. He spoke in English next. “It girl, you know the meaning? Uh...very hot?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You are more,” he whispered conspiratorially, still in English, leaning forward over his plate.  
  
Seunghyun just stared back, feeling his ears heat up. The look went on longer than he was able to handle before he glanced away, taking in the view of Victoria Harbor outside their window.  He felt more than a little guilty now, remembering how he'd treated Seungri.  Because he had a boner, and felt entitled to Seungri's attention?  Seungri was so expansive, optimistic, dogged,  completely all in to his life and making it the best for himself and everyone around him. He was more than just an especially assertive sex toy and Seunghyun would do well to keep that in mind.  
  
When he chanced a look back the maknae was biting off a piece of sausage, looking very fucking satisfied with himself.    
  
_What a little shit..._  
  
“Also hyung, like I said.  The writer and the executive producer want to meet you.”    
  
“You were serious about that?” Seunghyun asked.  
  
“Of course I was serious. You're Choi Seunghyun.”  Seungri punctuated the name with wiggling fingers on raised, open palms.  “I bet they'd rather have you for my role right now, but you can't speak Chinese.”  He grinned.  
  
“Guilty,” Seunghyun said.  
  
“But for the _next_ movie, our movie. The producer is American. He says a US studio already purchased the rights to the script.  He wants me, but he wants you too.  He specifically asked.  We'll play Koreans.  From Korea.”  
  
“A challenge.” Seunghyun's eyebrow went up.  
  
“Ha.  Don't worry, this guy really is good. He's up to your standards, okay? No kpop or kimchi jokes,” Seungri said.  
  
“That's before the studio gets their hands on it.  And we haven't acted together for a long time.  You sure you want to?”  
  
“I can't think of a better costar. Unless we can convince the almighty G-Dragon to join us?”  
  
Seunghyun watched his smiling eyes, feeling a smirk on his own face despite his efforts to hold it back.  He hoped it would pan out, he really did.    
  
_And that I won't fuck things up in the next two years and wipe that smile off your face._  
  
If the project was worthwhile Seunghyun knew his confidence would return.  He would immerse himself in the work instead of imagining five hundred ways it could all go wrong.  It was hard to feel pessimistic around Seungri anyway; he always took the good as it came along, not for granted, but he believed life had a way of working itself out.  
  
Seungri glanced at his watch, one Seunghyun hadn't seen before.  
  
“Looks so expensive,” he said, tapping his own wrist.  
  
“What? This?  A gift from the producer,” Seungri said absentmindedly, turning the jewelry around a couple times.  “Or probably an advance on my paycheck.”  He pursed his lips together, his eyes round and apologetic.  “I'm sorry, hyung, I've got to go. I didn't know you would be coming.”  
  
“It's fine,” Seunghyun said.  
  
“But I need you to go out with me tonight.  To dinner.  I wish we could just go to this place...oh my god, the best laksa you ever had in your life...  But when I tell everyone you're here they're going to freak out!”  
  
“Don't make it a big deal,” Seunghyun said.  
  
“You're Choi Seunghyun,” Seungri repeated, doing the hand gesture again.  “ _I_ don't have anything to do with making it a big deal.”  
  
“You know how you can get. Just be cool about it, okay?”  
  
Seungri looked put out enough that Seunghyun reached across the table to touch his hand.  Seungri looked down at their fingers, his sulk fading into a thoughtful expression.    
  
“I'll call you later,” he said, slowly sliding his hand out from underneath Seunghyun's.  His reluctance was further apparent when they both stood, stiff, apart.  
  
“Okay.”   Seunghyun reached out and patted him on the wrist, wishing he could grab it, tug him in to close the awkward gulf between them.  But there were too many eyes in this room.  “Think they'll give me a watch, too?”  
  
Seungri smiled and Seunghyun felt his own grin lighten his face.  
  
“If you're good tonight, maybe.”  
  
“I'll be good. I'll be so good.”  
  
※ ※ ※  
  
Seunghyun took his lumps from Choice when he called to tell him he wouldn't be in, not even attempting to come up with an excuse. He considered hitting up a gallery or taking a walk, but anxiety over striking out on his own kept him in.  His Chinese was abysmal and he didn't feel like dragging his security guard around.  He called room service for beer and smokes, then stumbled across a channel on TV dedicated to classic films.  He couldn't understand as much as he wanted to and the subtitles were next to useless, but the images were romantic, beautiful.  He let unformed thoughts drift through his mind, never letting one settle for too long. He'd been manically busy, pushing himself to a familiar state of frayed nerves and red eyes. There was so much to do before he had to go. The group's schedule was going to be challenging, and that wasn't taking into consideration any of his personal projects.  
  
Personal projects. Mostly he wanted to hold on to the feeling of being okay.  Contentedness might be asking too much.  He'd shoot for okay.  
  
Seungri surprised him by sending a car to pick him up for dinner.  He surprised Seunghyun further by actually being in the car.  He was wearing the same outfit from the morning, but somewhere along the way he'd opened one more button on his shirt.  When he leaned over to open the door, Seunghyun got a quick eyeful of his bare chest.   He sat down and buckled up quickly, crossing his legs, thoughts of the last time they'd been in a backseat together affecting him more obviously than he liked. Seungri didn't even really look at him as he sat back and whipped out his phone.  Meanwhile Seunghyun pored over him, finding every small detail fascinating.  
  
_You're so hot.  Look at me._  
  
“Let me show you pictures of people so you won't be lost, okay?” Seungri said.  
  
Seunghyun made some small noise of agreement, blatantly staring and wondering when Seungri would notice.  If not for the driver and security personnel Seunghyun would be all over him, force him to pay attention no matter how much it pissed him off.  He sighed, seeking calm.  
  
Seungri passed him the phone, then gestured at the screen with his middle finger. Seunghyun loved that habit.  
  
“You've seen her already? My costar, Lin Ling Yu.”  
  
“Yes, beautiful...but why show her again,” Seunghyun teased, handing the phone back.  “Are you dating?”  
  
“She likes someone else,” Seungri said. Seunghyun could tell his scowl wasn't entirely genuine.    
  
“I can't believe you're giving up so easily.”  
  
“What chance could I have against T.O.P?”    
  
“Oh shit!” Seunghyun hit his arm, letting his hand settle there instead of taking it away; Seungri looked down at it, then back up at Seunghyun with a slow grin. “What did you say to her about me?”  
  
“She is excited to meet you.” Seungri shrugged, nonchalant. “Even though I told her your language skill is too poor, so you only date Koreans.”  
  
“Seungri!” He shoved him a little, provoking Seungri's nervous giggles.  
  
“It's true!”  
  
“It's not! Now she thinks I'm an idiot,” Seunghyun pouted, squeezing the arm still under his hand.  
  
“As if you won't win her over without even trying.” Seungri turned his chin down, piercing Seunghyun with a stare that he knew was meant to imitate his own. “Just sit there and brood.”  Seunghyun closed his eyes, shook his head. “Anyway, I only told her about dating, not...you know...”  
  
“Seungri, you're an asshole.”  
  
“Would you want me to be honest then, too?”  
  
“Honestly?  Okay. I prefer Koreans,” Seunghyun said, raising one eyebrow at him.  
  
Seungri's ebullient laughter melted Seunghyun; he couldn't resist sliding his hand down Seungri's arm to grasp his hand in his own. Daesung was willing to accept this type of affection from Seunghyun, but Seungri would rarely allow it...Seunghyun was still floored he'd done it this morning. Seunghyun rubbed his thumb in small circles against Seungri's knuckles, savoring the moment when Seungri finally saw him. Seungri gazed at his face, then let his eyes travel slowly over Seunghyun's body, his expression unusually difficult to read. When he spoke again his voice was careful, steady.  
  
“Were you drinking today, hyung?”    
  
Seunghyun stiffened. This was something of a sore point, though mostly unaddressed in face-to-face conversation.  
  
“I had beer.”  Seunghyun looked at him matter-of-factly, challenging him to ask how much.  
  
Seungri untangled his fingers from Seunghyun's; Seunghyun had a split second to feel a defensive stab of shame, until Seungri brought both his hands to Seunghyun's chest.  Seunghyun sucked in air as soft palms pressed against his pectoral muscles, one thumb brushing against a nipple.    
  
_God, and I thought_ he _was too easy?_ Seunghyun was hard as a rock already.  
  
Then Seungri got serious, undoing several shirt buttons.  
  
“Seungri-ya–” Seunghyun's eyes flew to the front of the car where the other men sat in dour silence.  
  
“You had it all wrong,” Seungri murmured. He closed the shirt again, patting his finished work before he sat back.    
  
Seunghyun blinked down at himself.  He hadn't noticed any mistake. He checked his fly, just in case.  
  
“Okay hyung, try to concentrate,” Seungri said, his voice authoritative as he consulted his phone again.  “This one here is an up and coming cinematographer–”  
  
※ ※ ※  
  


They were all Chinese, speaking a loud, lively mix of Cantonese and Mandarin and English. Seungri explained the latter two languages were mostly for their benefit, not that it helped Seunghyun very much. There was one younger man at the table who stuck out. He was almost as silent as Seunghyun, examining him with such naked interest that he was beginning to feel like a piece of performance art, or maybe a zoo exhibit.

“Seungri-ya,” Seunghyun whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Who is that?”

“I told you already. If we play our cards right, he'll be our executive producer. He's American. Rich as hell. That's all I know so far.”

“He keeps looking at me. Is he...you know?”

Seungri glanced at Seunghyun, flexing the muscles in his jaw. Seunghyun knew he was trying not to smile.

“I don't know. But don't worry, okay? It's not like that.”

Seunghyun thought that was rather naive. He thought of John, who he considered a friend, but—

“Okay, just so you know,” Seungri continued, “he was talking about your eyes a little while ago.”

“My eyes? Shit.”

“Well in the context of um, being good for the role...he said 'soulful' or 'full of ghosts,' something like that...”

“What the fuck?”

“Tabi the ghost,” Seungri teased. “Relax. You're just what he wanted.” Then he turned back to his co-star, who was even more stunning in person. Seungri had been trying to get Seunghyun to speak to her all night; Seunghyun couldn't figure out if he was doing it just to be a jerk or if he was really trying to set them up. For his part, Seunghyun was polite, but counting the minutes he had to endure in this unfamiliar company. Seungri seemed happy as a clam doing all the talking, so Seunghyun just shoved noodles in his face and drank whatever went around.

Suddenly the American stood up, gesturing at everyone to huddle in for a photograph, catching Seunghyun's eye specifically. Seunghyun was stiff, stiffer still when Seungri slid an arm around his shoulders. The American took a series of photos before everyone lapsed back into candid positions, but Seunghyun still felt awkward.

“Is he going to post them?”

“Probably. Is that okay?” Seungri, ever the object of online examination, seemed to understand his discomfort, his eyes watching Seunghyun carefully. Seunghyun shrugged. Seungri's hand moved from Seunghyun's shoulders to his back, his fingers tracing up and down his spine in a slow caress. Seunghyun wasn't sure it was helping him relax. “Let's take a selca after this and I'll post it. The VIPs will like to see it, hyung.”

“They'd rather see you with Jiyong. Nyongtory, nyongtory,” Seunghyun said in a sing-song voice.

Seungri's tongue ran around the inside of his mouth as he looked Seunghyun in the eye, his slight embarrassment giving way to a mischievous expression.

“They can wait until the album promotions for that. Besides, we all know Jiyong prefers Japanese.”

“And you?” Seunghyun asked, finishing off his beer with a quick swallow. Seungri's fingers clutched at the back of his shirt before he dropped his hand.

“Korean.”  
  
※ ※ ※

  
Seunghyun lit one of his last cigarettes, slipping it between his lips as he watched Seungri bid boisterous farewells. He even clapped the American on the back before he saw him into his car. Their driver waited a short distance down the alleyway. Seunghyun  tried to soothe himself while he waited for the nicotine to work its magic, taking in small beauties: the iridescence swirling in a patch of leaked oil, the gleaming flecks of mica in the black granite of the building next door.  And then Seungri was the only thing he could see: white shirt, white grin, white phone cover waggling in his face.    
  
“Ready to take our picture, hyung?”  
  
“Eh, let me,” Seunghyun muttered, reaching in his jacket pocket for his phone. Then he paused, eying Seungri through a smokey squint.  “If you don't mind.”  Seungri held back a smile as he leaned against the wall next to Seunghyun.  
  
“That's fine with me,” he said, all lightness and nonchalance.  
  
“Yī, èr, sān—” Seunghyun recited, holding his phone out in front of them.  
  
Seungri giggled as the shutter clicked.    
  
“Ah T.O.P hyung, very cute,” he said, leaning into Seunghyun's shoulder.  
  
Seunghyun's anxiety kicked up a notch.  Seungri had kept his distance after the little quip about preferring Koreans, neither looking at nor touching Seunghyun unless someone specifically addressed him. Then Seungri was his normal uninhibited, gregarious self, filling in all the gaps for Seunghyun, saying god knew what about him.  But Seunghyun didn't much care.  He simply watched him as he talked, nodding when Seungri would glance over as if seeking confirmation, picking up every other word if he was lucky.  
  
Seunghyun realized he trusted him, and that it didn't matter if the movie didn't pan out.  It wasn't why he'd come here.  What Seungri was thinking or feeling, though, he couldn't say.  
  
“I love it when you patronize me,” Seunghyun said, taking a deep drag on his cigarette and peeking at Seungri out of the corner of his eye.  Seungri rolled his in response, then pointed at Seunghyun's phone.  
  
“You going to post it or not?”  
  
“Yeah.”  Seunghyun edited the picture, cropping and lightening with practiced fingers.  It was a grainy shot, a wisp of smoke obscuring part of his face. At his side was Seungri in mid-smile, seeming genuinely happy. Seunghyun loved how such a small thing – counting to three – could make him look like that.  
  
“Don't put up a million versions of it, okay?  That one is fine,” Seungri said, nudging him.    
  
“Don't tell me what to do with my Instagram,” Seunghyun replied, staring at Seungri until neither of them could hold it in anymore.  Seunghyun coughed over his laughter as Seungri finally stepped away from him, waving away the smoke.    
  
“We shouldn't keep him waiting much longer.”  He tilted his head at the idling sedan.    
  
“Just a second.”  Seunghyun posted the photo as he finished up the cigarette, chucking the butt in an empty bin as he hurried to follow Seungri.    
  
“'Panda dinner.'” Seungri read out Seunghyun's caption as he slid into the backseat next to him. “Really, hyung?”  
  
“Yeah. It was delicious,” Seunghyun smirked.  Seungri shook his head.  
  
“You better hope they don't think we ate panda.”  
  
“I like it.”  
  
“Oh my god.”  Seungri shifted in a place and pressed his lips together, looking down at his phone as he spoke.  “You don't need to go back right away?”  
  
“Ah...no?”     
  
“Just checking.”  
  
The rest of the ride to Seungri's hotel was subdued, both of them staring at their phones and watching the responses roll in...well, Seunghyun was, he wasn't sure what Seungri was up to except that it involved a lot of swiping and switching between screens.  It was rare for Seunghyun to post a selca with one of the other members, rarer still for Seungri to appear on his account unless he was teasing him.  There were many surprised questions – how did you agree on a dinner spot, is this for the comeback, where are the other hyungs, what are you doing?    
  
_I don't know._  
  
After a few words to security, they rode the maintenance elevator to the top floor and walked in silence to the penthouse suite.  Inside it was all black marble with white veins, beige carpet, beige couches, meticulously opulent flower arrangements, huge windows with a view of the harbor.  Seungri looked around the room like he didn't practically live here. Seunghyun looked at Seungri.  
  
“You're being so weird,” he finally said.  It was not the nicest way to start a conversation, but his buzz was fading and he felt confused as hell by Seungri's periodic reticence.  
  
“You want a drink?” Seungri asked, rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
Seunghyun shocked himself by waving the offer away.  He took a few steps closer to Seungri, the lonely feeling from previous weeks creeping over him.  He was right there, so handsome, so touchable.  Seunghyun had half hoped this visit of his would be enough to break Seungri down, to convince him to dismantle whatever wall he'd built between them. Hell, maybe he'd give Seunghyun a chance to call the shots. But now that they were alone, Seunghyun discovered that he desired just the opposite.  
  
_I'm here with you. So have me._  
  
He wouldn't always be here. Did he have to say it?  
  
“You have to take care of yourself, you know,” Seunghyun blurted.  Seungri just stared at him. “You shouldn't be so busy all the time.  You hardly rest. When I'm gone—”  
  
“You aren't leaving yet,” Seungri interrupted. Seunghyun fisted his hands.  
  
_I swear I will fucking punch you_. He relaxed his fists.  
  
“You want to watch your mouth,” Seunghyun said evenly.  “And don't let Jiyong—”  
  
“Please,” Seungri scoffed. “You already yelled at me about the—”  
  
“I said what I had to say regarding that particular event,” Seunghyun said.  
  
“You know it was his fault!” Seungri cried.  
  
“So you know you especially have to take care of him!  Don't let him get—”  
  
Seungri shook his head at the floor, chuckling.  
  
“ _Aish!_ ” Seunghyun was as exasperated by the loss of eye contact as anything. “What the fuck is so funny!”  
  
“You want me to take care of Jiyong?”  
  
“Well, don't _take care_ of him.”  Seunghyun couldn't stand it anymore.  He closed the final space between them, taking shallow breaths against the tightness in his chest, daring Seungri to look away again, to drop those downturned eyes that could be sultry or mournful by turns.  He wanted to hold him, kiss him, hit him, shove him.  
  
“Would you care so much if I did?” Seungri asked, his chin jutting out ever so slightly.  
  
_Yes. I'm supposed to be the only man._  
  
Seunghyun felt on the verge of...what?  Asking him to wait for him? Like one of those cliché sobbing girlfriends in the dramas?  So much would change, so much that was impossible anyway.  He didn't deserve to make such a request. Didn't even know if he wanted to. Seunghyun acknowledged that he was always more interested in the chase. Could he trust himself to maintain interest – not just for the next two years, but for all the time Seungri was away as well?  
  
_Yeah, sure, right._  
  
And as for the maknae.  Seungri could choose anyone, anyone at all. He was getting older, too. He should experience a lasting relationship. Hell, why not try for real love, without the looming specter of scandal. That would be one way to keep out of trouble while the hyungs were away. Seunghyun should be the one protecting him, not using him, not dragging him through his masochistic bullshit.  
  
Heavy waves of dread and longing washed over Seunghyun.  Seungri's expression had changed from teasing to questioning as he noticed Seunghyun's hesitation.    
  
_Go, go, fucking turn around and go._  
  
Instead he leaned into Seungri, needing somewhere to put his weight, somewhere to rest so he could breathe again.  
  
“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered. _I'm too selfish. I'm sorry._  
  
He would miss what he had right now: the smell of Seungri, the heady mix of soap and cologne overlying the hot-blooded maleness that was uniquely his own; and the feel of him, the sensual strength of his compact body, warm skin and hard-won muscle and secret, surprising softness.  Seunghyun could recall at any moment how it felt to be naked underneath him, their bodies creating the most sublime friction, burning away the persistent solitude for a brief moment.    
  
Seunghyun was hard again, the only part of him that knew how to articulate a simple desire. He rocked his hips, willing Seungri to respond in kind.  Seungri was blinking up at him, trying to process Seunghyun's words or actions, but at least he wasn't moving away.  Seunghyun yanked his own shirt out of his waistband, grabbed one of Seungri's hands and shoved it down the front of his pants, being rough on purpose, wanting to provoke the other man's natural aggression.  Seunghyun wanted the bruises tonight, the scrapes and toothy impressions to muse over in the mirror later.    
  
He bent his knees so his tongue could reach the soft space behind Seungri's ear, travel down his neck to suck, just a little – not going over the line, or over Seungri's wall, whatever it was between them.  Seunghyun breathed out a whimper, needy and vulnerable. The noise seemed to do the trick. _Fuck, finally._   Seunghyun could almost smell the change in Seungri, sighed with relief as Seungri's hand curved around his straining length.  
  
“You weren't wearing anything underneath this whole time?” Seungri asked.  
  
“No.”  
  
He rotated his wrist around Seunghyun a few times, stroking from base to tip, being deliberate, thorough, before switching with no transition to short, hard, jerks.  The muffled sound of skin on skin set the rhythm of Seunghyun's panting response until Seungri stopped, squeezing as he rolled his wrist a final time.    
  
“You're so wet already,” Seungri said, his voice rich with dark affection, his thumb spreading the precum he'd milked from Seunghyun over the head of his cock in a leisurely spiral. Seunghyun had a brief inkling of what Seungri must be like with women. He shuddered, digging weak fingers into his upper arm to brace himself against the craving Seungri had nurtured in him, wondering if he made them feel the same way.  “Jesus, hyung, I barely have to do anything and you're ready to blow.  Why didn't you just call someone?”  
  
A woman, he meant, one of the numbers Seunghyun collected or received almost without realizing. But Seungri must know that there was no real substitute for what he gave to him. As if he was unconsciously proving the point, Seungri's fingers reached lower, pressing deliberately into Seunghyun's perineum, then spreading to brush over the place Seunghyun wanted him most.  He groaned, loud and long, the noise echoing through the room.  
  
“Listen to you,” Seungri marveled.  Maybe Seunghyun would have been embarrassed in another time or place, or with anyone else, but he was past that now.  
  
“Please.” The word dropped out of his mouth, flat with restraint. His hands clutched at Seungri's hips as he wished for bare skin, held himself back from pressing against the roving fingers with every ounce of patience.  
  
“Since you asked so nicely,” Seungri said, voice quiet, “I'll give you whatever you want.”  
  
_Specifically?_ Seunghyun paused, then decided to go with short and and to the point. “I want your cock.”  
  
Seungri pulled his hand out of Seunghyun's pants and offered it up to him.  Seunghyun pressed the slick fingers to his lips, sucking each one into his mouth by turn.  His own taste wasn't what he hungered for, but the look on Seungri's face went some way toward assuaging his appetite.  When Seungri's fingers were clean he pulled his hand back, petting Seunghyun's cheek.  Seunghyun wasn't sure what he saw as he returned Seungri's stare, but the hand settling on his shoulder and pressing down wasn't ambiguous.  
  
“Remember what I said the first time?  About your perfect face?” Seungri asked.  
  
Seunghyun nodded, his fingers already at work on the fastenings in front of him.    
  
“No hands,” Seungri instructed, taking a step back until Seunghyun was in the position he wanted – palms resting on his legs, head tipped slightly back, tongue just over his lower lip.  When he took himself out, flushed and firm with his own anticipation, Seunghyun couldn't help but lean in.  Seungri stepped back again.  “Eyes on me, Seunghyun.”  
  
Seunghyun blinked slowly before giving Seungri his undivided attention; the first warm touch of the head of Seungri's cock against the broad, relaxed surface of his tongue was a true test of obedience versus instinct.  He wanted to wrap his lips around it, watch Seungri's eyes roll back and hear the breaths of pleasure rush past his lips, but he held still.  Seungri tapped himself against the ready muscle, then dragged Seunghyun's lower lip down until it popped back into place, smearing saliva down the point of his chin and along one edge of his jaw.    
  
Seungri went hands free as well after that, using small movements of his hips to rub himself against Seunghyun's cheek.  
  
“Your dimples,” he mused, trying and not quite succeeding at holding back a smile.  Seunghyun squeezed in the cheek that was currently under particular attention, making the indentation appear.  Seungri sighed. “Okay. Suck me off.”  
  
Seunghyun maneuvered Seungri into his mouth, never breaking eye contact, turning his head and using his tongue to lap him into place.  He closed his lips just around the tip, gently suckling and tracing his tongue under the flared edge.  Seungri's lips tightened, distracted hands pushing at his waistband so that his suit pants and underwear dropped to pool around his ankles.  Seunghyun's fingers itched to stroke up his calves, to feel the soft skin behind his knees and on the insides of his thighs, to cup his balls...and maybe slip a finger between those luscious cheeks.  
  
“I thought you were so desperate.  Are you trying to flirt with me now?”    
  
Seunghyun huffed air out of his nose, leaned in farther, extending his tongue as far down along the underside of Seungri's cock as he could before he felt the telltale resistance of his gag reflex.  He did it a few more times, a little farther each time, his eyes watering slightly while he kept them fixed on Seungri's face.  Seungri smiled, almost benevolent.  
  
“Seunghyun, touch yourself.”  
  
He immediately slid his hand to his lap, adjusting his erection from its cramped position, then lightly ran his fingers along his length, his nails whispering over the material of his pants.  He got the first taste of precum from Seungri at the same time, felt himself leak sympathetically.  He suctioned his lips in a firm O, pulling what liquid he could from his slit, then focusing a circling tongue firmly on his frenulum, hoping to coax more out.  Seungri's hips began to roll while his face took on a familiar determined expression, the one that told Seunghyun he was actively climbing toward his sexual peak, using the wet heat of Seunghyun's mouth to get there, get off.  
  
Seunghyun moaned deep in his throat as more salty slickness came from Seungri, his own beginning to smear against his thigh.  He rolled his palm back and forth against himself, his lids shutting halfway as he felt the familiar tension build in his thighs, ass, and balls.  He moved his head up and down, enthusiasm making him pick up speed as he imagined their previous encounters – the sounds, the smells of their sex and sweat, the aching muscles and soreness in the days after, reminding him of how thoroughly he'd been fucked.    
  
Seungri thrust in sync with Seunghyun's movements now, a short exhalation in the back of his throat punctuating each movement of his hips, his fingers stroking through Seunghyun's hair and down the sides of his face.  When Seunghyun left off his cock to go lower, paying attention to the soft skin of his balls, he allowed it for only a few seconds.  
  
“Tickles,” he complained.  Seunghyun smiled and then moaned when Seungri pulled at his hair again.  “Show me yours, Seunghyun. It's so fucking pretty, you shouldn't hide it.”  
  
Seunghyun practically ripped the button off his waistband, licking ardently as Seungri rubbed himself all over Seunghyun's lower face, his eyes glazing over as he caught his lip between his teeth.  
  
“Get yourself close.”    
  
Seunghyun took himself in one fist, moving hard like Seungri had earlier, not teasing, not playing.  It didn't take long.  
  
“I'm close,” Seunghyun panted, backing off a little. The hand in his hair pulled again.  
  
“Stop.”   Seunghyun stopped, Seungri thrusting himself fully back into his mouth for a minute or so.  “Okay, do it again.”  
  
They repeated this three, four, five, more and more times, until Seunghyun lost count and was at the edge within seconds.  He was throbbing, aching with the need to come, his last moan sounding a little watery.  
  
“Give me your hand, Seunghyun. No, leave that one on your leg.”    
  
Seunghyun let go of himself to lift his hand up, surprised but not shocked when Seungri spat into it.  
  
“Show me how bad you want it. But do _not_ touch your cock,” he said, rubbing the saliva along two of Seunghyun's fingers.  
  
Seunghyun's pants were still on so it was a bit of a contortion, and saliva wasn't the greatest lube. He grimaced against the stretch, reaching for that place inside that he associated with Seungri now, with that profound, fundamental urge.  His movements were awkward and choppy with excitement; he wished it was Seungri instead, fucking him out of his mind with deft, controlled strokes. Seungri stepped forward again, pressing himself against Seunghyun's parted lips.  
  
“Hyung, you're gonna make me come like this,” he whispered, his voice heated and low with the foregone conclusion.  Seunghyun moaned his assent from the back of his throat, though at this point he was just getting in quick swipes of his tongue when he could remember to do it. Seungri did most of the work himself, using Seunghyun's face as he pleased, smearing him with saliva and precum until Seunghyun felt the moisture run along the edge of his jaw and trickle down his neck. Seungri noticed and smiled fiercely, growling out his praise. “ _Unngh_...you're so sloppy, Seunghyun, so dirty.”  Seunghyun obliged him by drooling more, grinding down on his fingers as Seungri began stroking himself with purpose, his breaths hitching in his chest.  Seunghyun maintained careful eye contact, flexing his tongue, trying to control himself because Seungri hadn't said—  
  
“Get close again, Seunghyun,” he said.  
  
Seunghyun fucked himself harder, his wrist and jaw aching, not sure if he could do it before his entire body simply shook to pieces.  He twisted his fingers inside, trying to focus on the place that made everything below his waist seize up.  
  
When it hit, a shocking fist of sensation from the very center of his pelvis, he stopped breathing.  
  
“Oh, fuck,” Seungri sighed, his first thick, hot line of cum jetting over Seunghyun's tongue and nose. Seunghyun was too gone to flinch, his own cum pumping helplessly out and spattering down onto the marble next to his leg.  Another shot hit along his cheek, just under one eye, and then Seungri was smearing himself through the mess as he gritted his teeth, the last pulses of his pleasure dribbling out against Seunghyun's lips.  A small bubble formed from one nostril as Seunghyun eventually exhaled; Seungri bit his lip again, grim satisfaction spreading over his flushed face. Seunghyun swallowed what was in his mouth before gulping in a great lungful of air, his fingers sliding out as he sagged back on his heels.  Seungri took a moment to appreciate the aftermath; Seunghyun returned his gaze with one eye, cautiously opening the other when he was sure his lashes weren't covered.  He expected to be chastised or at least teased for coming without permission, but Seungri suddenly looked chagrined.  
  
“Wait,” he said, taking a few shuffling steps out of his pants before walking over to the wet bar, treating Seunghyun to a somewhat rare view of his bare legs and ass.  He returned a minute later with a few items, one somewhat unexpected.  “I could really use that drink now.  How about you?”    
  
He held a full wine glass to Seunghyun's tingling lips. Seunghyun sipped dutifully, tasting the intermingled flavors of Seungri and a cherry-dominated dry red.  Seungri ran a damp cloth over Seunghyun's face and neck while he drank, then took the glass away. He drained the rest himself before he held out another cloth to Seunghyun.  
  
“Refill,” he stated, walking away again.  Seunghyun slowly got to his feet, his knees stiff and his wrist feeling like it belonged to someone else...and he was still semi-hard, his body humming with unspent virility.  He shook his head, busying himself with cleaning his hands and body, getting his clothes back in order, and wiping up the mess on the floor.  When Seungri returned with a separate glass for both of them, Seunghyun took his but didn't drink, observing the younger man in silence. Seungri wouldn't look at him and he was drinking the wine like it was water instead of an intense (and likely very expensive) blend.    
  
“You want me to go,”  Seunghyun said, remembering Seungri's quick departures from his house.  
  
“No.”  Seungri's reply was immediate, but he still wasn't looking at him.  He finished off the glass and went back to the bar.  After all the eye contact during the blowjob, Seunghyun was at a loss.  
  
“This is good,” Seunghyun muttered, taking another sip.  Seungri was drinking behind the bar now, so fast it was leaking out the corners of his mouth.  “Seungri, what the hell? You're wasting it.”  
  
“I'm thirsty,” he retorted, trying to turn away as Seunghyun approached. Seunghyun grabbed his glass out of his hands and set it on the surface of the bar with a sharp clink. Wine sloshed over the edge, splotching the marble with dark purple.  “Ya! Now who's wasting it?”    
  
Seunghyun controlled a sudden urge to slap the sneer off his face. He'd never _really_ hit Seungri, but he was damned close now. He realized his anger was actually a mask for concern, but his heart was racing so fast he couldn't think. He let his breath out in a quick huff before he went to the closest mirror, checking his skin and hair.  It wasn't like his guard didn't suspect what they were up to, but it would be a little gratuitous to get into the car with remnants of his recent facial drying to a fine glaze.    
  
Seungri let him get one hand on the door handle before he called out in a plaintive voice.  
  
“Hyung!  Let's take another selca together.”    
  
“Are you fucking kidding me,” Seunghyun said, pivoting as equal parts relief and irritation flowed through him.  The expression on Seungri's face was breaking his heart.  But he was at least looking at him again.  
  
_Fuck. Are we really doing this?_  
  
Seunghyun went to him, realizing he appeared more combative than he felt by the way Seungri shrank back.  He stared him down for a few more seconds, until Seungri grabbed his hand.  He pulled Seunghyun deeper into the suite, out of the living area and to the bathroom.  The marble color scheme was reversed, white shot through with black veins.  Seunghyun stood, feeling stupefied; maybe the wine was kicking in.  Seungri released his hand to start the taps for the deep, wide tub, then removed his shirt before starting in on Seunghyun's.  He undressed him with efficiency, seeming careful not to touch his body.  
  
When the tub was half full he gestured for Seunghyun to get in.  Seunghyun obeyed, feeling Seungri's eyes on him as he dipped one foot in to test the temperature.  His legs were so long he knew he'd take up most of the room, but Seungri climbed in after him with no hesitation, facing him with his knees held to his chest. When he turned the water off it seemed exceptionally quiet.  Seunghyun watched him through the steam, willing him to break the silence, then rolled his eyes when Seungri persisted with the wordless act.  
  
“Did you want to take the picture in here?” Seunghyun teased, wondering if he'd take the bait.  He would like to add a picture of Seungri in the bath to his collection, now that he thought of it.  
  
“No,” Seungri said, red in the face from embarrassment or hot water or wine or a combination of all three.  “I just thought you might want to clean up first...to relax.”  
  
“Relax.”  Relaxing was usually the farthest thing from what they did together.  
  
“Yeah,” Seungri said, tapping his knees together with nerves. Seunghyun watched his face carefully as he took Seungri's ankles in his hands, pulling his legs away from his body and arranging the slim calves over his own thighs.  He chanced a slow slide up with his hands, stroking over Seungri's bent knees, and when Seungri seemed to melt instead of freeze he kept going, stopping when he reached his mid-thighs.  He squeezed the thick muscles gently.  
  
“Comfortable?” Seunghyun decided to humor him.  If Seungri didn't want to talk, they didn't have to talk.  The picture, like the movie deal, was just an excuse.    
  
Seungri nodded, his eyes slipping closed as he tilted his head back.  Seunghyun watched his adam's apple bob as he accepted Seunghyun's touch, his entire body going limp and languid.  
  
_He wants me to stay._ Terrifying.  Also kind of wonderful. Seunghyun kept massaging; he didn't realize Seungri was asleep until he woke up with a jolt, one hand splashing water into his own face.  Seunghyun laughed at his amazed blinking.    
  
“Seungri-ya, is this what you do at hotels? Get drunk and pass out in the tub?  That's dangerous.”  
  
Seungri muttered something unintelligible as he rubbed wrinkled fingers over his face, mussing up his bangs into crazy spikes and corkscrews.  Seunghyun's heart cramped.  
  
“Let's get out,” he suggested, the words husky as they passed over the lump in his throat.  
  
“I still want more wine,” Seungri said, pulling his legs back.  
  
_God,_ Seunghyun thought, sitting still as he watched him climb out and towel himself off, feeling the swell of blood pull his cock back to semi-erect.  Seungri shook his head when he felt Seunghyun's eyes on him, his embarrassed smile flickering over his face.    
  
“Don't be a pervert, hyung.”  He held out a dry towel. “Come on, finish the bottle with me at least.”  
  
“Okay,” Seunghyun said. Far be it from him to act like he was above polishing off the wine.  
  
When he came out of the bathroom Seungri was already in bed, glass in one hand and phone in the other.  Seunghyun shuffled over in the too-small hotel slippers, pulling the too-short robe down his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed. Seungri took a sip of his drink, then raised his eyebrows as he swallowed.  
  
“You aren't hovering there like that all night, are you?” he asked.  
  
“When are we taking the selca?” Seunghyun said, feeling the slow swoop of nerves begin again in his lower stomach.  
  
“Now. Come here.” Seungri patted the empty pillow.  
  
Seunghyun kicked the slippers off and crawled up next to him; Seungri sat up straighter and passed the wine to Seunghyun as he opened up the app on his phone.  Seunghyun took a small sip, and then another.  It was unusually good for stuff stocked in a hotel, even a five star.  He wondered if Seungri had requested it.  
  
“Ah, look at your pictures from yesterday, hyung,” Seungri said with a little grin, tilting the phone screen toward him.  
  
“Yeah I know, I took them.”  
  
Seungri snorted, then double tapped one.  
  
“You are so photogenic,” he continued, then glanced over. Seunghyun just looked back, letting him talk. “It's true! But in person— _neo ytaemune neo ttaemune michyeoga whoa oh oh_ —”  
  
“Oh my god, how can you be so—!” Seunghyun reached to cover his mouth.  Seungri dodged his hand and laughed, delighted at getting the response he wanted.  “If you ask, they might let you join.”    
  
“Think I'm pretty enough?” Seungri said, putting on his smug expression.  
  
“I thought we were talking about me.”  
  
“Put your head closer to mine,” Seungri said, flipping the phone around. Seunghyun did, raising his hand up to make a finger heart.  Seungri scowled when he saw the result.  “Ah hyung, don't cover your face. Why bother?”  
  
“Look at that,” Seunghyun pointed.  “You can see your shoulder.”  
  
“Want to try again?”  
  
“I like it,” Seunghyun teased, making a grab for the phone. The look Seungri gave him made Seunghyun burst out laughing.  “Oh please. Please.”  He struggled for a straight face, managed it for a few seconds.  “I've learned my lesson, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Seungri simpered. Then, a few taps later: “Done.”  
  
“What! You posted it? Can you tell we're in a bed?”  
  
“No,” Seungri said, glancing over at Seunghyun and then back at his phone.  
  
Seunghyun stared at him, utterly shocked. Had he had too much to drink? The only way that picture could be more unusual was if Seunghyun himself had posted it.  Out of the five of them Seungri was likeliest to take a fall for anything even slightly off the straight and narrow.  Seunghyun, on the other hand, could post some pretty outrageous shit on social media if he really wanted to, but he preferred to reveal himself through works of art, or to share an image that appeared serious but was actually just a joke (it didn't bother him if he was the only one who laughed). This picture, though, conveyed a sense of intimacy that made Seunghyun feel exposed. It was dim, tightly focused on his fingers, their faces slightly blurred but unmistakable in the background.  
  
“Seungri, they'll talk,” he began, until Seungri cut him off by laying a cool finger over his lips.    
  
“Let them. We can say we were getting a massage.”  Seungri dropped his hand when Seunghyun snorted.  
  
“That doesn't make it better.”  Seunghyun leaned over, trying to see his screen. Seungri tilted the phone away.  “Did you caption it?”  
  
“No.”  Seungri's smile was small, secret.  “I should put this up next.”  He handed the phone over to the Seunghyun.  Seunghyun watched the first few seconds of the video and gasped.  
  
“What the fuck is that?” he asked.  
  
“Kidding, kidding,” Seungri laughed, retrieving his phone from Seunghyun's limp hand. “What, what's that face?”  
  
“You said...I watched you delete that, I was...” Seunghyun's voice trailed off.  
  
_Did I? Did I actually see him delete it?_  
  
“You were on your knees,” Seungri answered for him, setting the phone down. “Aish, don't spill the wine.” Seunghyun had forgotten he was even holding the glass. Seungri took it from him, sipped, then offered it back.  “Finish.”  
  
Seunghyun did, hardly tasting it. After the lecture Seungri gave about privacy and stupidity and SD cards, _he'd sent the video to himself_ before he deleted it off Seunghyun's phone? Seunghyun didn't have much time to dwell on his cognitive dissonance. Seungri's eyes on him had grown dark and critical. Seunghyun could get defensive, or angry, but he felt himself get hard instead, his face heating up at his easy response.  
  
“Aren't you tired,” Seunghyun suggested, attempting to maintain some composure.  “You should sleep.”  
  
“Are you? You don't want more?” Seungri set the empty glass on the bedside table, then turned back to Seunghyun, his face open, expectant. Seunghyun knew he wasn't asking about the wine.  He glanced from his eyes to his lips, his breath catching when Seungri leaned over him, their faces just inches apart.  They hadn't kissed since that night in Tokyo. Seunghyun guessed that for Seungri it was a step too far, so he never pushed it, never even asked.  There was sex and there was kissing, but god, Seungri had been so good at it.  
  
Seungri had found him out already, slipping one hand into the folds of his robe.  
  
“When you said you wanted mine,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Seunghyun's and nuzzling his nose with his own, “I knew where you meant. You want it so bad, but I didn't give it to you. Why am I so unkind?” Seunghyun's breaths came out shallow and shaking as Seungri's other hand stroked from his ear down to his neck, settling there with a grip as strong as the one around his cock.  “Answer me.”  
  
“I don't know,” Seunghyun said. _Because I deserve it._  
  
“That's a shitty answer,” Seungri murmured, his warm breaths teasing over Seunghyun's lips.  
  
“You like to be in control,” Seunghyun blurted, then bit his lip at an especially skillful twist of Seungri's wrist. Seungri smiled.    
  
“That doesn't mean I can't be nice. Would you like me to be nice, Seunghyun?”    
  
Seunghyun let out a quiet moan as Seungri's hand left his cock to stroke the soft skin between his thigh and his balls, then drifted lower. Seunghyun's legs spread automatically at the prompt before three things happened at once:  Seungri's lips gently pressing against his own, the fingers at his neck tightening, and the fingers below pushing in and up, not penetrating but declaring intent.  
  
His mouth still felt overused, his lips tender as Seungri used his to open them, but Seunghyun ignored the pain, marveling again at Seungri's natural eroticism, at the body curving so neatly into his.  He returned the ever-more-insistent kisses for as long as he could stand, until the hold on his throat and the demanding pace made him too short of breath. He broke off, panting.    
  
“Too much?” Seungri asked, sitting back and sliding down the headboard.  
  
Seunghyun shook his head 'no.' Seungri was right, of course.  He wanted him so bad, even if (or especially because) it stung.  
  
“The black toiletries bag on the dresser,”  Seungri said. “Stuff's in there.”  
  
Seunghyun was across the room and back in seconds, dumping the bottle of lube and a condom packet next to Seungri and awaiting further instructions.  He felt a moment's satisfaction when Seungri flipped the sheets off.  
  
_Oh, look at_ you _._  
  
“Put it on me.”  And did Seungri's voice sound as eager as his cock looked?  Seunghyun ripped into the foil, praying he didn't damage anything in his haste, then set about the task of unrolling the condom and dripping the fluid over Seungri. Seunghyun waited just long enough for Seungri to grow fully hard under his hands before he squeezed out more lube, this time using it on himself.  Seungri watched with a prideful little smirk. “Ahh, you can't wait at all, can you?”  
  
But Seunghyun could wait, and he did, on his knees next to Seungri with the robe gaping open, only held together by the loose belt at his waist. Seungri pulled at the tip of the condom, checked the grip at the base, all while his eyes flicked back to roam over Seunghyun's body like he hadn't seen it until just now.  
  
_You missed me, too._  
  
“Ride me, Seunghyun,” Seungri said, his voice raspy with his own desire. His arms reached out.  
  
They hadn't done this before; normally it was Seunghyun on his hands and knees, or Seunghyun on his back, or Seunghyun against the wall, or Seunghyun bent over the nearest load-bearing piece of furniture.  He climbed into the circle of Seungri's arms, watching his face as he straddled him.  Seungri seemed fervent as he ran a palm down the center of Seunghyun's chest, but he still held himself in check. Seunghyun reached behind himself, aligning the tip of Seungri's cock with his hole.  His eyes shut as he let his own weight do most of the work; even with their earlier activities, this part remained a challenge for him.  Meanwhile Seungri's hands were busy; at his waist, tugging the belt of his robe open, then grazing over his nipples before taking them in a firm grip, his force increasing as Seunghyun bore down.  It was the same intense stretch as always, the same overwhelming intrusion – and suddenly Seunghyun was sliding the rest of the way down, feeling so incredibly full so fast. Seungri let go of his nipples with a hard pull as soon as Seunghyun's ass met his pubic bone, making Seunghyun cry out at the shock of pleasure mixed with pain. Then he did it again, and again.  
   
Seunghyun sighed and tipped his head back, unable to hold still, rocking in place to acclimate himself. The muscles in his abs, thighs, and ass were already tight and shaking.  
  
“I forgot, I was supposed to be nice. But you like that so much, huh?” Seungri teased, going back to merely brushing his thumbs over the sensitive nubs.  
  
“Oh, _shit,_ ” Seunghyun whimpered, the slightest hip roll from Seungri causing a hot rush over his entire body. His head dropped back down, his spine curving into a C as he endured the sensation.  
  
“Look at what you did, Seunghyun,” Seungri said, sounding amused.    
  
Seunghyun opened his eyes when he finally felt like he could, first seeing the enigmatic smile on Seungri's face and then looking farther down.    
  
“God,” he whispered. “Did I come?”  
  
“I don't know, did you?”  
  
Seunghyun was leaking profusely at least, all over Seungri's lower stomach. How could there be so much left? He watched as Seungri swirled his fingers through the puddle, then reverently painted the slickness along the curve of Seunghyun's erection.  
  
“How am I still like that,” Seunghyun muttered to himself, his fingers clutching at the sheets next to his knees.  
  
“You know how it is sometimes,” Seungri shrugged. “You get yourself worked up and it—”  
  
Seungri's words cut off when Seunghyun lifted up an inch or so before sinking back down; and there was a faint twinge of pain, yes, but overall a sense of literally riding an edge, every stroke filling him up and making him so, so close, but not quite there. He closed his eyes again, trying to decide how long he could stand the torment. He felt gentle fingers at his tip, rubbing over his slit.    
  
“Mm, I think your ass really loves this position.  Every time you go back down there's more,”  Seungri said, his voice almost a purr. “And you make the hottest faces.”   Seunghyun cringed, then shivered as Seungri tugged his robe open. Seungri sighed as it slipped off Seunghyun's shoulders, such a wistful, unusual noise to hear from him that Seunghyun opened his eyes.  “Don't be embarrassed. Seunghyun, Seunghyun...” Seungri tossed the robe off to one side, then reached for him again.  
  
The way Seungri said his name – _their_ name – made Seunghyun's stomach flip. Seungri often dropped the honorific during their encounters, but tonight it sounded less like a power play and more like a claim.  
  
Blunt nails scratched down the sides of Seunghyun's arms before one hand settled in hard on his hip, the other pressing against his back to move him forward.  Seunghyun groaned at the change in angle, bracing his palms against the headboard as he began to move faster. Seungri was still as Seunghyun worked his hips, staring fixedly at the place where their bodies met.  
  
“God,” Seunghyun whispered again, the friction from his balls and cock sliding against Seungri's slick abs feeling absolutely divine in combination with Seungri so hot and big inside of him.  It was too much when Seungri looked up, his pupils blown wide with absolute pleasure. “Seungri-ya,” Seunghyun whined, hoping the pleading tone was enough to satisfy him, because there was no question about this orgasm, no holding it back.  
  
Seungri grabbed Seunghyun's other hip and thrust upward, the extra pressure on his prostate making Seunghyun freeze with the exquisite leap in pleasure. He let out one short scream, fingers gripping the wood of the headboard as he watched himself go again, milky white pearls dotting here and there on Seungri's chest.  
  
“Fuck yes, Seunghyun,” Seungri breathed, gritting his teeth as he gave into his instinct, arching his back to push himself deeper into Seunghyun's heat. Seunghyun felt himself shudder all over as Seungri refused to let him come down, hitting him faster and harder in that insatiable, astonishing place.  “One more time, come on, come for me, yes Seunghyun, _come_.”  Seunghyun made a small, surrendering noise as he released what had to be the final remnants left in his body, contracting weakly around Seungri swelling even harder inside him.  These full-bodied orgasms made Seunghyun's ears ring, made Seungri's fiercely satisfied cries sound far away as his last few thrusts stole the air from Seunghyun's lungs. Finally Seungri's hips stuttered, his bruising fingers sliding through the sweat on Seunghyun's hips to clutch at his ass.  
  
Exhaustion made Seunghyun sag as every muscle ran to water. He gave up on staying upright, pulling off Seungri's wilting cock with a little wince as his muscles there spasmed on its sudden absence.  He was angling to fall beside him until surprisingly strong hands at his back pulled him straight down. Seungri's lips tickled against the hollow of Seunghyun's throat. 

“Stay, stay—don't—”  
  
“I'm not...I wasn't,” Seunghyun's half aware assurances came out in a smothered whisper, his face awkwardly pressed into the pillows. He could feel Seungri's body still trembling under him, the panting breaths against his neck heavy and hot.  
  
They laid that way until Seunghyun's skin felt like ice wherever he wasn't touching Seungri, his neck a little sore and his ass a lot, and everything sticky besides.  Seunghyun squirmed and the hands at his back dropped immediately.  
  
“Eh, sorry, I'm so tired all the sudden,” Seungri slurred, watching through slow blinks as Seunghyun slid off him.  
  
_No shit._  
  
“Can I smoke?” Seunghyun asked, pushing up on one elbow.  He usually hated awkward after-sex moments, felt vulnerable, unwilling to speak.  But in spite of his weariness, he felt better now than before. And sleepy Seungri was so fucking cute, just like always. He tilted his head. “I wish you did.”  
  
“What? No you don't,” Seungri grumbled.  He rubbed his eyes and sat up. “You just hate having to ask.”  
  
“Yeah maybe,” Seunghyun admitted. He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and got to his feet, then had to brace himself against the wall for a second to get his balance back.  _Whoa. Fuck._  
  
Seungri sighed, heaving himself off the bed and following Seunghyun into the bathroom.  He paused when he reached the sink, staring blankly down at himself.  
  
“My kind of canvas,” Seunghyun said, running a hand towel under the faucet.  
  
“What?” Seungri's eyes flew back up to meet his in the mirror.  
  
Seunghyun shrugged, then reached behind himself with the towel, maintaining direct eye contact.  
  
“We should've saved the bath for after, huh?”  
  
“You're so... _uch_ ,”  Seungri turned away from him, trying to be discreet as he removed the  condom.  Seunghyun grinned.  
  
“But you love me anyway,” he said to Seungri's back.    
  
“Okay, go smoke. Not in the bed, though,” Seungri said, giving Seunghyun a sidelong glance as he brought his own towel over to the sink.  
  
Seunghyun found a thick glass ash tray in the main room.  Standing next to the windows nude was normally not his thing, but he felt a bizarre sense of calm.  
  
_Who am I, where am I,_ he thought, snickering at his own melodrama. When Seungri walked up to him, wearing soft cotton shorts and holding out an empty case for his contacts, Seunghyun accepted it with a nod. Seungri yawned and walked off scratching his ribs, just as wordless. They'd done all of these mundane pre-sleep tasks next to each other thousands of times before, but it'd been a very long time since since they'd shared a room, let alone a bed. Seunghyun should feel out of place.  He should want to be in his own home, his own bed.    
  
Instead he was gazing at Seungri lying on his stomach like he was the only thing in the world worth looking at.  Seungri's bleary eyes cracked open when Seunghyun turned the sheets back, taking him in for just a moment before shutting again.  
  
_I know. It's fucking weird but I don't wanna put clothes on right now, okay?_  
  
As soon as Seunghyun's head hit the pillow he felt like he was sinking into the bed, becoming one with it.  His eyelids weighed a thousand pounds.  
  
_Who am I? I am this bed._  
  
Seunghyun snickered again, wondering if he was finally losing it for real. If so, insanity beat the hell out of insomnia. At the sound, Seungri reached out to him with limp fingers. Seunghyun sightlessly intertwined them with his.  
  
“I always wanted to with you,” Seungri said, his confession soft, dreamy.  
  
“Take a bath?  That's cute, maknae.”   Seunghyun couldn't resist one last tease.  
  
Seungri squeezed his hand, then relaxed again.  
  
“ _Shh,_ hyung.”  
  
  
※ ※ ※    
  
Seunghyun rolled over and groaned softly, every joint in his body feeling sprung. He was pretty sure a rat had crawled into his mouth to die, and he had to pee so fucking bad. He leaned over the side of the mattress and fumbled around for his discarded robe.  He cinched the belt as he lurched into the bathroom with one open eye.  
  
“Aish!”  
  
Seungri stood at the mirror,  clad in thick-rimmed glasses and a white towel around his waist. Half his face was covered in shaving foam and he held a book in one hand. There was also a coffee cup and a folded newspaper.  Seunghyun opened his other eye, not that he could make out much more detail. He vaguely recalled putting the contacts case Seungri lent him on the far corner of the bathroom counter.  
  
“You scared the shit out of me!” Seungri complained, retrieving his dropped razor from the sink.  
  
“Sorry,” Seunghyun croaked, shuffling his way over to the toilet.  When he was done he came back to stand at Seungri's side, taking his soft hand away from his jaw to put pressure on the folded tissue with his own fingertips.  “Why do you always do ten things at the same time? Don't you have an electric shaver?”  
  
“It ran out of charge yesterday, and I forgot—” Seungri's voice trailed off as his face colored with a light blush.  
  
_In all the excitement?_  
  
“You'd still be scary,” Seungri continued, his eyes moving over Seunghyun's face, examining him more closely than Seunghyun liked. “I thought you were going to sleep all day, hyung.”  
  
Seunghyun checked on the cut to distract him. Blood welled up, an undeniable compulsion striking  in the next instant; he darted forward, licking at the red bead before Seungri could react. Seungri jerked back with a short bark of shocked laughter.    
  
“Jesus, see what I mean about scary?  If I knew you were a vampire...you have to invite them or they can't come in, you know.”  
  
“I'm a ghost. I can go anywhere I like.” Seunghyun smiled, replacing the tissue over the red spot on Seungri's jaw.  Then his brain registered what Seungri had said.  “What time is it?”  
  
“Almost eleven, last time I checked.”  
  
“Shit. My flight.”  
  
“You didn't tell me you had one,” Seungri said, looking apologetic. “I was going to wake you soon, anyway.”  
  
“You have to go,” Seunghyun said, his lower lip jutting out just a bit.  
  
“I have to be in Shanghai by four,” Seungri said, his hand coming up to cover Seunghyun's and draw it away from his face.  “Still bleeding?”  
  
“No.”  Seunghyun turned away from Seungri's searching eyes, stealing the coffee cup and sipping as he searched for his contacts.  
  
“I heard your phone ring earlier,” Seungri said, rinsing the razor and starting on the other side of his face.    
  
“What? When?”  Seunghyun had his ringer on for a very select group of people.  He really must have been dead to the world if it didn't wake him.  
  
“About eight?”    
  
Seunghyun finished placing his lenses, blinking them around his dry sockets with a wince.  As tempting as Seungri looked in 20/20, water was what his body wanted most of all.  
  
_Probably couldn't even if I wanted to._  
  
He downed half a bottle in a series of gulping swallows before he picked up his phone from the bedside table.  Sure enough, one missed call and several LINE messages. All from Jiyong.  Mild déjà vu stole over him as he opened the app.  
  
> _I knew you wouldn't answer...too busy making a memory?_  
> _I should have told you before_  
> _So hot, so fun, so good at making friends_  
> _Can't even count them all_  
> _But talking about love..._  
> _Never wants to get married_  
> _Understand?_  
> _I wasn't the one who ended it._  
> _If you think I'm jealous, you are dumber than I realized_  
> _I love you hyung, call me later_  
  
Normally Seunghyun would reply to Jiyong at soon as possible, but he just dropped the phone on the bed and stared as if it had become a live and potentially dangerous thing. He knew Jiyong was being cryptic because of the medium, but he caught his meaning.  It was directly at odds with what Seungri had said to Seunghyun, though.  Seungri had been very clear.  _Just sex._  
  
Now Seunghyun was supposed to digest that their maknae, who spoke in public about his future as a father, didn't want to get married. Well, just because you didn't want to didn't mean you wouldn't do it anyway.  Seunghyun knew more than a few people in that situation.  It was too indulgent to say “never” when you were only in your twenties, like you had so much time you couldn't even imagine how things would change, how you would change.  Seunghyun realized more and more each day that time was short, very fucking short indeed.    
  
_Of course he doesn't want to get married.  He keeps himself so busy he can barely jerk off._  
  
But that wasn't true. Seungri's prowess (or lack thereof) with women was a years-long running gag.  He had a specific type the hyungs could point out to tease him with, but he'd grown so reticent these days that they'd begun to rib him about hiding a special someone. A real girlfriend.  
  
Seunghyun knew that wasn't what Jiyong meant, anyway. And _Seungri_ dumped _him?_  
  
_Jiyongie, you're telling me this_ now?  
  
The intermittent-but-persistent romance between Jiyong and Seungri officially ended in 2013, when Seunghyun had been so far down the rabbit hole of depression he could barely see beyond his own pain.  Jiyong refused to discuss it with him, would shut Seunghyun down with an icy glare if he dared raise the issue.  Daesung said he got a similar cold shoulder, but Seunghyun doubted it. Seunghyun knew that his history with Jiyong made it different. He suspected Youngbae knew  the details, but it would be useless to ask him. He was Jiyong's confidante for a reason.  
  
_Why didn't I ever try to talk to Seungri?_  
  
Seunghyun believed that Jiyong wasn't jealous; he and Seungri still had enough spark to keep the fanservice fires alight, but offstage Jiyong was heavy with a certain acquaintance overseas.  Hell, just a couple of weeks ago Seunghyun had overheard him ask the maknae for advice on booking a romantic Christmas vacation in Sapporo. The two men had managed to rebuild their friendship, but they kept a certain careful distance between them.  
  
_Careful like Seungri hauling ass out of the house as soon as he's done with me?_  
  
But then there had been last night.  
  
_And this morning, which is currently still happening, by the way._  
  
Seunghyun leaned forward to snatch up the phone, his hungover head screaming for mercy. He texted Jiyong a promise to call, then went back in the bathroom.  Seunghyun expected his clothes to be where he'd left them, in a heap by the tub, but found them neatly arranged on a hanging rack.    
  
“My pants won't fit, but you can borrow a shirt if you want,” Seungri said, turning from the mirror, clean shaven and frankly beautiful. Seunghyun tore his eyes away with no small effort.  “I tried steaming your things next to the shower but they're still—”  
  
“If you have to go before I'm done, that's fine,” Seunghyun interrupted, opening the shower door. He shrugged out of his robe and hung it on a peg, ignoring Seungri's raised eyebrows.  
  
“Uh—I'll still be here. I'll order something for you to eat.”  
  
“Don't bother. I just want to smoke.”   Seunghyun started the water.  
  
Seungri crinkled his nose; Seunghyun heard him muttering something as he left the room.  Seunghyun leaned against the tiles, willing away the dull throb behind his eyes.  Where was his peace from last night?  
  
_Dammit, Jiyong._  
  
But it wasn't Jiyong's fault.  In spite of his constant self-doubt, Seunghyun knew his real chance to get cold feet had come months ago; instead he'd jumped in feet first.  Believing what?  That Seungri was hot and they were hot for each other.  That they'd get it out of their systems, cool down, enlist. Fin.  
  
In the doorway of the bathroom he paused to step into his wrinkled pants, staring at a wheeled serving cart that had appeared next to the bed. On top were a couple of silver-domed dishes, a covered cup of coffee, and a pack of his usual brand next to a new lighter. On the bed itself, laid out flat, was a shirt they'd shared however many times. Red and navy stripes.  Seunghyun thought it looked better on him, but Seungri had managed to swipe it from the group wardrobe at some point.  Seunghyun pulled it over his damp head, then lifted the domes.  Kimchi jigae, steamed rice.  Basic, simple, definitely not from the hotel kitchen.  
  
_What the hell, Seungri?_  
  
Seunghyun could hear him speaking rapid-fire in the main room, a mix of Korean and occasional Chinese, punctuated by a smooth sort of laughter Seunghyun recognized as the maknae in CEO Lee mode.  
  
Seunghyun lit up a cigarette and sat on the bed, feeling calmer but stranger with each puff. He remembered when it'd been the five of them together always, and Seungri forever striving for the older boys' attention and approval. He had that mop of unruly black hair, the bushy eyebrows and awkward nose that would've dominated his face but for that huge, toothy grin, and somehow the entire effect was so irresistible.  Even more endearing was the careful glance he'd give Seunghyun before jumping into his spotlight, and the sad puppy pout when Seunghyun would put him back in his place. _Hyuunng!_  
  
“Hyung? Hey, _Seunghyun_.  You didn't eat anything.”    
  
_Ah, there's still the pout._  
  
“I don't feel hungry until later, usually,” Seunghyun said, blowing the last drag out of the corner of his mouth, away from Seungri.    
  
“I'll make sure there's something for you on the plane, then.”  Seungri was back on his phone already, thumbs busy.    
  
“What plane?”  He stubbed the cigarette out on the saucer and took up the coffee. That couldn't wait.  
  
“I arranged a flight for you,” Seungri said, still looking at his screen. “We can ride to the airport together, but we have to go soon. I'm letting my manager know to meet me there in—”  He glanced up, saw Seunghyun sipping. “Ah, sorry. I know you prefer espresso but I thought it would go bad before I could get it up here.”  
  
“Why are you—” Seunghyun stopped, narrowing his eyes.  “Arranged? How?”  
  
Seungri's smile was slow, tentative until he was sure Seunghyun wasn't annoyed.  
  
“I have my ways,” he said, looking pleased with himself.  
  
“Yeah, apparently.  Ah, shit. I have to get my things from the other room,” Seunghyun said.  
  
“Aish, why did you bother?” Seungri complained.  
  
“Bother with what?”  Seunghyun suddenly did feel annoyed.    
  
“You know you could have just stayed with me.”  Seungri furrowed his brow right back at Seunghyun.  
  
“It's not...” Seunghyun paused, caught off guard. His irritation evaporated as he struggled to find words. “It's not polite. To invite yourself over.”  
  
“Oh yeah, I forgot how polite you always are to me.”  Seungri dodged Seunghyun's reaching arm, his expression apologetic.  
  
_Fuck, you're making him as moody as you are.  Some influence._  
  
“Come on, eat something, please,” Seungri cajoled from a safe distance.  “Call your hotel, have your things sent to the front desk.”  
  
Seunghyun shoved a clump of rice into his mouth, chewing noisily.  He didn't want it. What he wanted was more time, any lazy number of minutes to run his hands under Seungri's shirt, to squeeze the soft spots at his hips, to curl his fingers into the warm dip of his lower back.  Seungri watched him eat for a second, seeming to sense his longing, then mouthed _call_ before he backed out of the bedroom.  
  
In the car they were quiet again, though this time the silence held less charge. Seunghyun read emails and news articles but had trouble focusing on any of it while Jiyong's LINE messages replayed themselves in the back of his mind. Meanwhile, Seungri kept returning his glances with a crooked little curve of his lips, his small dimple teasing Seunghyun's own into appearing. The car pulled up to the departures curb all too soon. Seungri leaned forward to speak to the driver.  
  
“This is my stop, but you stay,” he said to Seunghyun, tapping him on the thigh.  
  
“What?” Seunghyun looked down at Seungri's fingers, then back up.  There was that smug smile again.  
  
“Your plane has a private hangar.”  
  
“Seungri-ya—”  
  
“Don't worry about it, okay? It's a friend of a friend, they owe me,” Seungri said.    
  
“You shouldn't,” Seunghyun said, shaking his head.  
  
“I did.”  Seungri's voice was firm.  Seunghyun gave up arguing, trying instead to take in every detail of his face, to commit this new Seungri to memory. He marveled at how the maknae's world had swelled so far beyond their myopic idol beginnings, beyond what Seunghyun or the rest of them had ever imagined. Sometimes it frightened Seunghyun, made him feel cautious, not of Seungri but on his behalf.  How many times had Seunghyun met one of Seungri's “friends” at a show, or watched him leave a Bigbang meeting immediately for undisclosed business of his own? That was a significant part Seungri's life now, separate and private from the rest of them. For all Seunghyun knew, this might be the last time they saw each other until the next group event.  
  
_How many numbers are in his phone?  Maybe Jiyongie was warning you_ about _him, not_ for _him._  
  
Seungri got out of the car, then leaned down to aim that damnable smile his way for the millionth time.  Seunghyun's heart beat faster, the pulse of blood in his ears drowning out the mercurial voices of jealousy and suspicion.  
  
“Let me know when you get home safe, hyung.”  
  
“I will.” 


	6. Delivery service

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hinted at the "lost phone incident" back in Chapter 2, but never directly addressed it in the fic -- so in case you're wondering what on earth I'm talking about, GD & YB told [this story](http://yooneroos.tumblr.com/post/154773393536/the-crisis-of-tops-lost-phone) on Radio Star.

Today didn't feel like a special day to be held in higher esteem than the others. It was just another day closer to being gone. Every morning Seunghyun had the same realization, and the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach got worse. Why had he waited so long?  
  
Questions like that were useless, but he couldn't help dwelling.  He talked to Jiyong about managing negative emotions while he was away.  “Call me anytime, whenever you get the chance,” Jiyong urged, then held him until Seunghyun had to step back or start crying, and _fuck_ was he ever getting sick of crying.  He almost wished for a return to his womanizing, blackout drunk ways.  Simpler times. He also assured Jiyong that his relationship with Seungri was casual – oh, and he definitely used Seungri's massage excuse to reply to Yang's questioning text about their selcas, hinting at a film opportunity in the works but suggesting that he speak to Seungri about it. Jiyong had let it go without grilling him, though he seemed to text or call Seunghyun more often than ever these days.  
  
There were also messages from Seungri, though not so numerous as Jiyong's, nor as heartfelt or friendly as Youngbae's or Daesung's.  But they were supplemented by deliveries. The first came a few days after his return from Hong Kong, in a white box stamped with the name of the Lee family's cafe. There was a note written in the pretty script he recognized as Seungri's mother's.  
  
_From V.I. to T.O.P: Our top seller!_  
  
And under that, the characters smaller, more rushed in appearance: _You are supposed to be Big Seunghyun. Eat this & stop my son worrying over you.  _  
  
Typical Korean mom. Didn't matter if you gained or lost weight; either way you got bitched at.  After the waffle came chocolate ice cream. This time the note suggested that he ' _post something on Instagram besides wine and truffles._ ' Seunghyun did. Then there was fresh red bean daifuku accompanied by a packet of assorted Japanese candies, and more, box after box, all seductively sweet.  
  
To his credit, he'd tried at least a bite of everything.  It wasn't that he deliberately avoided food. The enlistment anxiety sank its claws in deeper each day, making him forget to eat, or unable to finish what he started.  
  
Seunghyun's other appetites remained underfed.  There just hadn't been time. Fans called Seungri “ninja” for his ability to pop up at a Bigbang event and disappear without being seen.  Seunghyun didn't call him anything, resolving to bury his desire under a mountainous stack of canvases.  Art was his most reliable escape, his most enduring solace.  The curation experience had been more exhausting than he'd ever anticipated, but he was proud of what he had accomplished and looked forward to future opportunities.  
  
Today was his birthday, and there was another package, arriving just after he'd finished his first cigarette. This one required a signature of receipt.  
  
Seunghyun frowned as he closed the front door, hefting the box in his hands.  It was tightly wrapped and somewhat heavy for its size.  After a mighty struggle with layers of paper and packing tape, he was holding the box for a digital camcorder. There was a small envelope stuck to the front, demanding to be opened first. Seunghyun pulled out the blank card, surprised to see that the message inside was written in Seungri's own hand.  
  
_Happy birthday to my favorite strange artist.  Password is your year + my year._  
  
Under that Seungri had drawn a series of button presses for Seunghyun to follow, with a smiling face at the end. Seunghyun's frown deepened until he got the camera out of its packaging and powered it on. The display screen's prompt for a four digit code explained that part of Seungri's message.  Seunghyun sighed, adding the numbers in his head.  
  
_3-9-7-7._  
  
Then he followed the button instructions, feeling more than a little silly.  Seungri really did not trust him with technology at all.  He guessed he earned his reputation after the lost phone incident. Seunghyun hit the last button, a box with a play arrow inside. For a few moments he saw nothing, his eyes flicking back to the smiley in exasperation.  Had he missed a step?  
  
_[Hyung!]_  
  
He fumbled the camera as the familiar greeting piped out of the small speaker next to the screen.  His hearing grew more acute as more words followed, though the screen was still black.  Seungri was using his 'adorable maknae' voice.  
  
_[I hope you don't mind that I opened the camera before I gave it to you.  I wanted to make sure it worked.  And then I thought, I should leave my hyung a personal birthday message. He deserves it. He's been working so hard lately. The shows, the album, the exhibition...]_  
  
_Seungri, get to the fucking point._ They'd all been working their asses off. Staring at nothing while listening to that breathy, bratty voice was driving him nuts.  
  
_[...if you like this message, please call or text to leave a review. And if you don't like it, lie.]_   Punctuated by Seungri's laughing-at-his-own-joke giggle.    
  
There was a muffled rustling noise as light filled the frame.  Then, fuzzy but unmistakable, Seungri's stomach.  
  
_[I did a test run.  I think this should be in focus when I step back.  Do you want to see me better?]_  
  
Seunghyun's eyebrows raised ever so slightly as he moved the screen closer to his face without realizing.  Now it revealed almost all of Seungri's torso.  His hand drifted from somewhere above, slowly and lightly dragging over pale skin and the soft hair under his navel, twisting down out of frame.  So it was going to be a tease kind of thing?  Seunghyun smirked. So much for Seungri avoiding exposure on camera.  
  
Suddenly it was just his face, too close, bangs flopping over one eye, and his classic toothy smile.  
  
_[You like?]_  
  
_Aish, you sound too dumb._ By now Seunghyun's smirk was a true grin.  
  
Seungri's expression flickered from goofy to mischievous.  The eye Seunghyun could see rolled toward the ceiling, considering.  
  
_[I wondered if you wanted to see me dance, hyung? I don't do it much anymore, but you could still learn something.  Or maybe I could just talk to you, about what I do when we're apart and I'm thinking of you.  I think of you a lot.  It's too hard, actually.]_  
  
Now Seungri was pouting.  He straightened up again, his body filling the frame, then took another step back. Seunghyun pressed his lips together.  He could see the edge of more hair now, darker than what Seungri kept on his head.  His fingers walked from the top of one hip down, out of frame, and then back up again.    
  
_[It's bad because I'll be anywhere, with anyone, doing anything.  Then I think about your eyes. Then your lips. Your neck...and your chest...and by the time I imagine anything else I'm already so hard, hyung.  It's embarrassing. But I still keep thinking about you. I can't stop.]_  
  
He was making good on the dancing and the talking, Seunghyun noted.  He'd started to roll his hips in a slow S, his abs flexing minutely as he continued.  
  
_[I want you all the time. I want you_ right now.  _But I know you're probably working, even on your birthday.  Getting ready for the next thing, the next show. You must feel so much pressure. And we both work too much, don't you agree? You have to take time for yourself, too.  Want me to show you how I play with myself?]_  
  
Two more steps back. Seunghyun stared, rapt.  Seungri kept his thighs slightly spread as he squeezed the base of his thick, lubed cock, making himself as erect as possible; he waited until he was all engorged veins and flushed head, then let go.  His erection bobbed in the air, perky and proud.  Seungri flexed it once, twice, before running a teasing palm along the underside.  Then he gripped himself firmly as he began to speak again, speeding up the movement of his fist.  
  
_[Seunghyun...can you guess what I'm thinking about?  Do I think about fucking you? Do I think about shoving my cock down your throat, or up your tight little hole?  About holding you down and pounding you in half?  Yes, sometimes I think about that.]_  
  
Seunghyun could hear Seungri breathing, unconsciously mirroring the quickened pace through his own parted lips.  He wished he could see his face.  
  
Seungri turned around, showing off his ass – it was ridiculous, really, a man with an ass like that, and the worst part was that Seungri knew it.  He cupped a cheek in each palm and squeezed, letting his fingers slide off and opening himself up in the process. Just a flash. The lube from his fingers left shiny streak marks.  Seunghyun's pants felt uncomfortably tight; one of his hands crept down, applying unconscious counter pressure.  
  
_[But most of the time, hyung, I think about how hard I'm going to come on your cock.]_  
  
Seunghyun laughed, the same small noise of shock he'd made when Seungri had said he would fuck him, if—  
  
_[I need you to fuck me so badly, hyung.  I imagined it the first time I saw you.]_  
  
“Shut the fuck up,” Seunghyun whispered. He could hardly stand to watch, but he didn't know how to fast forward, and he couldn't look away either. Seungri turned his head to speak toward the camera; Seunghyun could tell by the elegant twist of his spine, the muscles in his back flexing.  
  
_[You probably didn't think much of me, right?  Just some average, awkward southerner.  But I knew from the first minute, I could never forget you as long as I live. And I remember how you were with Jiyong, how you would look at each other. He was thinking the same things as me, hyung, only he got to DO them.  Of course he did...Jiyong gets whatever he wants. You were so_ fucking _hot, Seunghyun. You drove me so crazy.  I thought I could never have you. I would listen to you fuck him and then he would get in my bed.  Did you know he smelled like you?  Do you know what he would do? His breath smelled like your cum and he'd snuggle his face into my neck and I fucking_ hated _him.]_  
  
He kept spreading his ass, his hands slipping farther and lingering longer between his cheeks each time.  Seunghyun groaned softly when he finally saw one finger begin to act with purpose.    
  
_[But then he started doing me, didn't he?  How could I say no to him?  No one can. He taught me everything he knew.  I wonder which parts of it he learned from_ you _, hyung.]_  
  
Seungri pushed his index finger in, then quickly added the middle, with no hesitation whatsoever. Seunghyun watched him press deep, twisting expertly to find where it felt best.  
  
_[Ahh, hyung.]_ Seungri sighed, holding himself open with his other hand. Making sure Seunghyun had an unobstructed view. _[How could you tease me for so long? I was never sure if you were serious.]_  
  
_Fuck you. You were with Jiyong when you weren't chasing some giggling pair of tits._  
  
Seunghyun thought his interest had been too obvious at times. He'd dialed it back, trying to respect boundaries.  Or something.  He had trouble keeping his thoughts straight because Seungri was taking the last few steps back.  Seunghyun could see his upper chest, flushed with arousal, then his jaw. Seungri sat down into the overstuffed leather armchair behind him, and his face—Seunghyun bit his lip at Seungri's expression, one he'd seen many times before by now.  That half-lidded sex drunk stupor.  
  
Seungri poised his fingers at his entrance again. Then a thought seemed to occur to him and he draped one leg over the arm of the chair, swinging his foot back and forth a couple times before thrusting roughly into himself in with three fingers.   Seunghyun pulled his hand off his crotch just in time, hissing.  He didn't remember putting it there.    
  
_Shit, I need to pause or–_  
  
_[After we fucked I thought, okay.  I paid you back.  But you liked it so much I figured I had to keep doing it. And I guess I got kind of addicted to your ass.]_ His smile was slightly pained and absolutely wicked. _[You've been so good, so patient with me. I'm too selfish, hyung.]_  
  
Seungri pulled his slick fingers out, turning them back and forth to catch the light.  Seunghyun really wasn't sure where to look first.    
  
_[I've been trying to make sure I'm ready. I got myself a...um, they call it a training set.  It took me awhile to get the biggest one in, but I think I can handle you now.]_  
  
He reached behind him into the seat cushion, and brought out a clear, tapered object. Seunghyun clapped one hand over his mouth.  No way was he that big.  No way was he about to watch Seungri fuck himself with that?  
  
Seungri had a bottle of lube hidden in the chair as well; he was just full of surprises. He smeared a good bit on the toy, then applied some more to his fingers, slipping them in and out of himself until he seemed satisfied.  He moved his right hand up to his cock, starting to stroke again, biting his lip as he pressed the end of the plug against himself.  His eyelids fluttered and he moaned, just one word, as the plug started to slide in.    
  
Seunghyun moaned back in response to his name before he bit down on the meat of his palm.  He might just come in his pants no matter what, like he used to ten or fifteen years ago.  
  
_Shit, Seungri. You fucking show-off._  
  
He had the plug all the way inside quicker than Seunghyun expected. He must not be lying about the practice, but then Seungri was always diligent about tackling a challenge.  He pulled the toy all the way out and reinserted it several times, looking down to watch himself stretch, meditative and unhurried.  
  
_[Will you fuck me slow like this, Seunghyun?  Will you make me beg like I made you beg?]_  
  
If Seungri suddenly appeared in the room with him right now, Seunghyun's strongest instinct would be to bite him as hard as he could.  He laughed against his palm, then dropped it.  He needed more air.  
  
Seungri let off stroking his cock to grip the base of the plug with both hands.    
  
_[Let me show you how I want it.]_ He looked directly into the camera, chin tilted down.  Seunghyun thought he might have an aneurysm if Seungri kept that expression much longer. Luckily his eyes couldn't stay open once he started fucking himself in earnest.  He furrowed his brow, the muscles in his arms and core and thighs contracting with the effort. He stiffened as his excitement grew, back arching with every stroke, his neglected cock leaking a slick trail of fluid.  The best indicator of his extreme arousal was his sudden lack of speech.  In the relative quiet Seunghyun could focus on the beautiful image Seungri made, on his more subtle pants and whimpers and sighs.  But it was over far too soon.    
  
_[Seunghyun...ohh fuck, yes.  Yes, yes–]_ Seungri fucked himself with just one hand now, the other gripping the arm of the chair for support as he went rigid with pleasure. _[Make me come, Seunghyun, make me—yes, yes, I'm coming for you–oh my GOD!]_ Seunghyun watched his toes curl, his own curling with sympathy against the rug under his feet. Seungri's hips jerked at the same time as his cock; he released his first spurt of cum with a yell, sounding almost outraged to Seunghyun.  The jet of fluid arching up and over Seungri's chest was fantastically impressive, considering he wasn't even touching his cock. Then he couldn't help himself; he gave up on the plug, jerking himself through the rest of the orgasm with erratic strokes of his hand and sobbing pants.  
  
He was making such a fucking mess. There was come on his _eyebrow_.  
  
_You got it on the chair, too._  
  
Finally Seungri stopped writhing, turning into a soft, slumped, sweaty pile of giggling, lovable idiot.  Seunghyun let out the breath he'd been holding as he watched Seungri take the toy out, his expression slightly comestruck with overstimulation.  He let the plug fall to one side, then carelessly swiped a palm over his face. He stood and strode toward the camera, blissfully bare except for what he'd painted himself in, getting so close it was just his big smile in the frame.  Then, the ultimate surprise:  the smile dying a little, pink tongue wetting his lips before he mouthed a message. _Happy birthday, I love you._  
  
Then the screen was black again, with an option to replay.  Seunghyun didn't hate himself enough to watch it again so soon. He set the camera down on the kitchen counter with utmost care, then visited the fridge for a cold drink.    
  
When he felt like his brain could produce some semblance of coherent thought pattern, he called Seungri. Nervous butterflies swooped as Seunghyun waited for him to pick up.  Maybe he wouldn't, maybe he was on a flight or in another timezone. Seunghyun had given up keeping track of Seungri's schedule, the pabo was always so busy, just like Seungri said, they worked too much—  
  
“Hyung!”  Bright, cheerful.  “Happy birthday, hyung!”  His in-public voice.  Seunghyun could hear lots of chatter in the background.  He cleared his throat, trying to find his own voice.  
  
“I got your present.”  There was silence for a few beats. “Hello?”  
  
“Aish,” Seungri muttered, furtive.  Seunghyun realized the background noise was fading.  “I told them evening delivery.  _Evening._ Hyung? You still there?”  
  
“I am.”  
  
“Well.  Did you like it?”  Seungri asked, innocent and cheeky.  
  
“Seungri, I'm supposed to go out to lunch with my mother in half an hour.”  
  
“That's all right, you can watch it later!”  
  
“I already watched it,” Seunghyun said.  
  
“Oh.”  Seungri's voice changed immediately to a soft tease, with that breathy effect that made Seunghyun want to climb walls, or dicks, or anything that would get him off.  “So you liked it.”  
  
“I don't know what to say.  I don't know what to do.”  
  
“I can suggest an obvious solution, but you're a pretty smart guy—”  
  
“No. I want you.”  
  
“I'm in a meeting,” Seungri said, not even trying to hide his self-satisfaction. “I just stepped out to take your call.”  
  
“Are you in Seoul?”  Seunghyun asked.  _Please be in Seoul._  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“When?”  Seunghyun knew he should hate being so desperate,  or be ashamed at how he couldn't hide the way Seungri made him feel. But there was a maybe not-so-insignificant part of him that loved it.  Growing each time he was with Seungri, just the two of them.  
  
“Will you be free by eleven, or is that too early?” Seungri asked.  
  
“Eleven?!” Seunghyun gasped.  
  
“I thought you would go out drinking with your friends tonight.”  
  
Seungri was right. They weren't “friends,” so Seunghyun hadn't figured him into his plans until he got the package. Seunghyun melted, then burned.  
  
“You little shit, you know exactly what you're doing. You didn't schedule evening delivery.”  
  
“I did!” Seungri insisted.  
  
“I'm coming over at eight and if you're not there–”  
  
“I'll be home, we're wrapping up in a few hours here.”   He was back to being smug.  “I'll even have time to take a nap first.”  
  
※ ※ ※  
  
Seunghyun's celebratory meals with family and friends passed in a blur.  His mother and Kyungil both sensed that something was up when even wine held little appeal for him.  He was beyond impatient with food and left favorite dishes nearly untouched. Inspiration struck when he decided to use the lack of appetite as part of his lie. The story was bad fish at lunch, a slight ache in the stomach, he would skip the bar crawl this year and just go home to relax. He waved off Kyungil's offer to come stay the night.  
  
“I would rather be alone,” Seunghyun said, knowing he should feel like a duplicitous piece of shit, but all he could think about was that fucking _scream_ , and all the cum–  
  
“I'll call you if I need anything,” Seunghyun assured him. Kyungil gave him a hug; Seunghyun kept their hips well apart lest his true reason for leaving reveal itself.  
  
※ ※ ※ 

The address Seungri gave to Seunghyun was for a condo Seunghyun hadn't visited before.  Dealing in real estate was one of Seungri's favorite pastimes; he said it was just a hobby, but then he would casually point to an entire office block and call it his. Seunghyun found it unspeakably tedious, but he had to admit this building was perfect for private meetings. It was luxurious but nondescript and located on a quiet side street.  Seungri had buzzed him through the garage and elevator, and now it was just a thick wooden door between them.  
  
Seunghyun pressed the button for what he assumed was a doorbell or intercom.  No response.  
  
_What the fuck. You know I'm here._  
  
He pulled his phone out of his jacket, texting with cold fingers.  
  
> _It's me._  
  
Seungri's reply pissed him off and made him smile.  
  
> _Did you even try the door_  
  
It was unlocked.  Seunghyun slid the bolt behind him before he turned around. The darkness in the apartment was almost complete, except for one lamp on a side table next to him.  He slid his shoes off, shaking his head.  Then he pulled out his phone again.    
  
> _Did you want to play hide and seek?_  
  
> _I'm not hiding. There's only 1 bedroom_  
  
Seunghyun flipped the phone around to use the screen for light.  The glow revealed a Japanese-style living room with a tatami floor, low tables, and cushions. Seunghyun stopped and stared when he saw it – the only piece of art on the wall. It was too dim to make out the subtle textures, but the throb of red at the center of the canvas was unmistakable.  
  
_So this is what you did with it._  
  
He felt a fierce little jolt of satisfaction, remembering the note he'd slipped in with the shipment – _DO NOT TOUCH_ – then moved on, passing by a sleek kitchenette. There was a short hallway with three closed doors.  The two on the sides would be bathroom and closet, and behind door number 3...?  
  
Seunghyun grasped the knob and turned. He was shocked at first by the impression that there was no wall, until he realized it was an enormous pane of glass. The moon was a white fingernail in the sky.   A soft noise to his left made him turn his head.    
  
Seungri was laying on the low bed, flicking his thumbs lazily over his nipples, his legs spread wide enough to show everything in the faint glow from outside.  
  
“Seunghyun,”  he sighed, arching his back away from the bed with a soft whimper.  “Please...I've been waiting all day.”  
  
This was what Seunghyun had imagined. For years.  What he had thought he would have months ago, that night in Tokyo.    
  
Seunghyun knew Seungri was still completely in control.  But it was okay; Seunghyun liked it that way.  No, he loved it.  He stalked toward him across the shadows of the room.  Time to open his present.  


	7. Not real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka Not Really the End? 
> 
> **TL;DR: I consider Chapter 6 - “Delivery service” the actual ending of this fic; this last bit is mostly a leak of raw brain matter. Turn back now, here be dragons, etc.**
> 
> I wrote “Delivery service” first, but always knew it would be the end. It's got a hopeful tinge to it, I think, and I know people like happy endings...I've certainly gotten that type of comment before. Don't you want your OTP to be happy?! Why won't you let them be happy?! It makes sense, but I wrote most of this fic in the last half of 2016... If it's kinda nuts, that is partly to blame. I wasn't in the right headspace to put on my happy face.
> 
> The title of this section is meta in a couple of ways. First, it's what people tend to say about the topri ship, so I wanted to tongue-in-cheek reference that. (Of course, topri is “real” in any way that any of the ships are real, but you know what I mean you pervs.) Second, I'm gonna pull a Stephen King Dark Tower epilogue move and warn you that you probably won't dig this unless you're into excessive angst and more loose ends. If you're not into that, you can pretend this doesn't exist and I won't even be mad. ;) 
> 
> There is a mention of death as part of a dream sequence, though it's more figurative than literal.

It was going to be a bad night.  It shouldn't be. Nothing was really wrong. Yes, today he'd finally tossed his song with Choice into the “maybe later/probably never” vault, but otherwise Seunghyun had no reason to be disappointed in himself. He'd been able to keep a positive mindset in spite of his packed schedule and the constant need to be “on.”  But his mood still set with the sun, and by the time the lights started twinkling on the other side of the river he was staring into the mouth of an empty bottle.  He felt cold, anxious, afraid.  
  
_Don't forget weak, puling, pathetic, loser..._  
  
He was fumbling with the third cork of the night when he admitted to himself that he shouldn't be alone. Kyungil was already gone.  Most of the time Seunghyun didn't think about his own departure, or if he did consciously address it, it was just as an upcoming travel date on his calendar.  A place he had to go, a thing he had to do.  But he kept having these dreams.  
  
He was was always on a footpath, alone, until he heard a voice behind him. Sometimes it was a simple greeting and sometimes it asked him to wait. Sometimes it was his mother or sister. Three times it had been colleagues from various work projects. Most often it was Jiyong, or Daesung, or Youngbae. As soon as Seunghyun turned to acknowledge the speaker death fell from above, crushing the air from his lungs and filling his mouth with a rusted, bloody taste.  Last night the dream had been different. For the first time the voice was Seungri's, and the hit didn't land right away.  Instead, Seunghyun glanced down and saw a small yellow flower pushing through a crack in the cement. _He will forgive me,_ Seunghyun thought as his fingers grasped the stem.  Seunghyun heard Seungri gasp and felt a tug on his hand, but it was too late. The stem snapped, and down came the awful weight.  Seunghyun woke up the same as always, coughing, choking, running with cold sweat.  He couldn't get back to sleep.  
  
He picked up his phone, seeing Youngbae's gentle smile in his mind.  He lived nearby, he was kind, he wouldn't judge...well, he wouldn't openly judge. His presence was comforting, benign; Seunghyun knew Youngbae had his own shit to deal with, but he never laid it on him. Usually he would come over and just ramble about whatever, normal stuff that was happening in his life, mundane thoughts, stupid jokes. Maybe he'd even cook something for the two of them, but mostly he would talk until Seunghyun started nodding off to his voice. Bedtime stories.  Then he'd make sure Seunghyun was settled down for the night before he left. Seunghyun furrowed his brow.  He knew where Youngbae was tonight; some anniversary with Hyorin. Youngbae pretended like it wasn't a big deal, but there was no mistaking the glow in his eyes.  
  
Daesung? Daesung knew what the lowest lows felt like. He would drop everything if Seunghyun asked him to, but he had mentioned visiting his family.  His father was in poor health, and Daesung was making a concerted effort to close any distance that might remain between them.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
Jiyong might be technically available, but Jiyong was exhausted and already worried sick over him. He would pretend to cope with Seunghyun's misery and then go home and wallow in it himself.  Seunghyun couldn't forgive that, hated himself already for taking too much from Jiyong. What did he repay him with?  More heaviness. The crush.  
  
Seunghyun knew that he needed a diversion away from the downward spiral. He had no right to lay his burdens at anyone's feet, but there was one person who might simply help him forget for a little while, if he asked the right way.  
  
“Hyung?”  Seungri's voice sounded distracted, fuzzy.  Seunghyun heard a beep, then a responding horn.  
  
“Are you driving?” Seunghyun asked.  
  
“Yes.”  Then Seungri chuckled. “Actually, no. This traffic is unreal.”  
  
Seunghyun considered telling him he should just use the YG drivers, but he knew Seungri would take it the wrong way.  _Thanks, Dad,_ he'd say.  So Seunghyun just asked, “Going home?”  
  
“Eventually,” Seungri said.  
  
“Come here instead.”  _Aish._   He hadn't meant to sound so demanding. “If you have time, I mean.”  
  
There was a pause.  
  
“You okay?” Seungri asked.  
  
“I want to see you.” _Fuck it._  
  
Another pause.    
  
“My phone says it'll take half an hour. Okay?”    
  
“Yeah. Okay,” Seunghyun said. “Bye.”  
  
“Bye.”  
  
Seunghyun went directly to the shower, hoping to wash away some of his shut-in aesthetic, but once he was out he couldn't bring himself to put on anything other than an old hoodie and track pants.  Whatever, they were clean.  He turned on some music and was back on the couch by the time Seungri was at the door.    
  
Seunghyun let him in, smelling cologne and cigarettes. He was hovering, he knew he was hovering, but he couldn't help it. Seungri sighed as he stooped to undo his laces, then glanced up.    
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Watching you.”  Seunghyun's smile wavered into a little pout.  “You were out already tonight?”  _With her?_  
  
“Already? It's past midnight, hyung. I had to check on something at the club.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Seungri stood back up to his full height, all five o'clock shadow and broad shoulders in his leather jacket, and his eyes were tired, maybe even a little sullen. Seunghyun knew he would rather be someplace where the bass thumped so loud he couldn't hear himself think. Seunghyun bent down to him anyway. Seungri accepted the soft lips brushing over his own, but didn't move to deepen the kiss. When he saw the soft, sweet lines of Seungri's face gone hard and dull with mere tolerance, he felt something in him tear.  
  
Seunghyun took him by the hand and led him into the living room. When Seungri just stood there like a fucking post, Seunghyun squeezed his fingers a little harder than necessary.  
  
“I don't know why you have to lie about holding hands. We hold hands!”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Seungri grimaced and pulled his hand out of Seunghyun's grip. He collapsed heavily onto the couch as he rubbed at his eyes.  Then he looked straight ahead while he spoke, but not at Seunghyun.  “Jesus. Is this about something I said at an event? We talked about this already. We agreed not to—”  
  
“I know.” Seunghyun retrieved the third bottle of wine from the dining table.  
  
Seungri watched as Seunghyun poured, then accepted a glass, taking a small sip as he looked blankly out of the dark windows.  The silence stretched until impatience made Seungri bounce a leg up and down.  “Okay, so, you called me over here to bitch at me about work?  About _fanservice?”_  
  
“No. I just didn't want to be alone.” Seunghyun had learned that honesty was the best policy when Seungri was in a mood like this.  It wasn't that Seungri was looking for a fight, exactly.  It was more like Seunghyun was failing a test he hadn't known to study for.  
  
Seungri set his glass on the coffee table before sprawling back, legs spread wide and arms resting along the top cushion.  
  
“You called me last, didn't you?” he said, looking up at Seunghyun with sharp eyes.  
  
“Yeah, and you came,” Seunghyun lied, wanting to hit back.  He was stung at the rejection of his confession, but there was shame, too.  He didn't call Seungri last, but he was the last resort.  Seunghyun had his reasons, his frustrations. Seungri laughed, short and dry, while his eyes wandered over Seunghyun.  
  
“So. You want a hug?  Or am I supposed to fuck you all better?”  
  
“Whatever you prefer,” Seunghyun shrugged, his own gaze landing and focusing on Seungri's ankles.  They were thin, delicate, at odds with the rest of him.  Seunghyun tried to remember if he'd ever wrapped his hands around them. Seungri broke his reverie with a cool demand.  
  
“Why is it always up to me, Seunghyun?”  
  
“Because you're the control freak,”  Seunghyun said, clenching his jaw against the memories of his birthday night. And it had been _all_ night, Seunghyun taking Seungri in every possible position he could manage to contort him into, making him come, hard and soft and hard again, over and over until the tears squeezed out of his eyes it was so fucking good for him. Better still were the goodbye kisses in the gray morning, the simple words they said with voices gone low and husky from overuse. Seunghyun still couldn't believe there had been such a perfect moment waiting to happen between them. It seemed more and more like a dream as time went on. Seungri had to go away on XYZ CEO Lee business, then there was Bigbang, and he'd never invited Seunghyun back to the condo.  
  
“The bullshit that comes out of your mouth,” Seungri said, shaking his head.  “You're the most anal person I know!” Seunghyun tried to cover a smile by sticking his nose into his glass.  Seungri huffed out an annoyed sigh.  “And you're also twelve years old. You know that, right?”  
  
“Mmm, I thought you liked them young. How old is she?  Twenty yet?”  Seunghyun said, giving Seungri his best glare.    
  
“Twenty-two,” Seungri sulked, his fingers picking at the fabric of the couch.  
  
“That's nice,” Seunghyun said lightly. “It's nice to see you settle on one for awhile.”  
  
Seungri slapped both of his hands down on his thighs.  Seunghyun flinched.  
  
“Get your camera, Seunghyun,” he said.  “Let's take a selca. You want to?”  
  
“Excuse me?” Seunghyun said, raising his eyebrows. “I thought we agreed—”  
  
“Of course we won't post it. This one's just for us.”  
  
“It's in my room,” Seunghyun said, setting his glass next to Seungri's on the coffee table. “Do you want to go there?”  
  
“No. Just bring it out here.”  
  
“Control freak,” Seunghyun said as he headed out of the living room.  
  
“And leave your clothes in there while you're at it!” Seungri yelled.  
  
Seunghyun returned to the living room clutching the camera against his chest, bare skin prickling with goosebumps as he watched Seungri empty his pockets onto the coffee table:  wallet, phone, keys.  He removed his jacket as well before pausing to take Seunghyun in, head to toe.  
  
“Still blows my mind every time I see you like this,” he said, a small muscle working at the edge of his jaw.  
  
“It's an exclusive deal,” Seunghyun said, putting playful drama into his voice, but the slight hunch in his shoulders told the true story.  Seungri smirked.  
  
“Take a seat, Seunghyun.”  
  
“Don't you want this?” Seunghyun said, holding the camera out to him.  Seungri shook his head.  
  
“No. You're the cameraman.”  He patted the cushion in front of him, speaking with the now-familiar tone of cool authority. “Sit. Down.”  
  
Seunghyun's skin crawled when he felt the fabric of the couch against his back and under his thighs, but that particular neurosis was set aside when Seungri knelt between his legs. He spread them wide with a shove against each knee, then paused for a thorough visual examination.  Seunghyun held his breath, expecting more rough handling. He ended up laughing out loud when Seungri tickled one hand over the top of his foot instead.  
  
“What the hell?” Seunghyun's giggles died as Seungri continued up his calf, while the fingers of his other hand combed idly through the straight black hair between Seunghyun's legs.  
  
“Did you ever consider going pink here, too?” Seungri asked, eyes bright with mischief.  
  
“Uh, no,” Seunghyun laughed. “Why, did you bleach yours before?”  
  
“You know I didn't,” Seungri said, and by now his hand had reached Seunghyun's mid-thigh, giving it a pinching squeeze. “Turn the camera on.”  
  
Seunghyun was familiar with the device from his repeat viewings of a certain video, though he hadn't added any of his own footage to the SD card. The camera auto-focused as he lifted it, his eyes switching between the screen and Seungri.  Seungri leaned forward, undeterred by Seunghyun's flaccidity as he began to nuzzle and lick at him with just the very tip of his tongue.  
  
Seunghyun cleared his throat and shifted in his spot, prompting Seungri to take a firm hold of his hips.  His mouth grew bolder as well, his curling tongue forcing a response from Seunghyun's camera shy body.  Seunghyun let the shot angle drift a bit as he looked past the screen. He reached toward Seungri's face, only to have his hand smacked aside.  Seungri started to laugh around him, sitting back a few seconds later.  
  
“Ah, that's what really gets you up tonight, huh?” He gripped Seunghyun at the base of his cock, squeezing and massaging until a small bead of precum formed at the tip.  He lapped at it with a quick, kittenish tongue before directing a beaming smile at the lens.  “How can you taste so good,  with all that shit you're always smoking or drinking or eating?”  
  
“It's not shit,” Seunghyun muttered, feeling his ears warm. He was used to Seungri's compliments by now, some backhanded and some aggressively sincere, but filming himself was still taking him out of the moment. He felt his erection start to wilt, until Seungri sucked _hard_ , taking him in deep. When Seungri went all the way down Seunghyun gasped, hips lifting away from the couch with surprise.  It wasn't that it felt particularly better than what Seungri had been doing before; Seunghyun just hadn't realized it was an option. Seungri's hands returned to his hips again, pressing him firmly into the cushion.  
  
“Seunghyun, don't forget the camera,” Seungri chided, after he had worked his languid way up and off. “Want me to do it again?”  
  
Seunghyun nodded, his throat clicking on a dry swallow as he adjusted his grip on the device, using both hands to keep it steady.  Seungri's own swallow was slick and sultry, engulfing Seunghyun entirely. Seunghyun lost his concentration again when Seungri released one hip to press clever fingers into the short, shy space between his balls and ass.    
  
“Fuck,” he muttered, fighting off an urge to thrust. He let the exquisite sensation pulse through his thighs instead, the muscles shaking with restraint.  Seungri pulled off him when Seunghyun started emptying his lungs with long, explosive sighs, their erratic pattern betraying how close he was. Seungri treated him to a few last sinuous, torturous licks, until he was clean and glistening from base to tip.    
  
“All right, hand it over,” Seungri said, his voice gone raspy from his efforts. Seunghyun let him take the camera with no resistance, his empty palms hovering forgotten in the air.  “I bet this is so shaky you can hardly watch it.  But whatever, it's your turn. I can't be the only one with my face on film.”   Seungri stood to get a better angle, panning over Seunghyun's body with a satisfied smile. “Okay, you're super hot, but this is kind of boring.  Show me how you get ready for me.”     
  
Seunghyun realized that a deliberate omission he'd made had also caused him to forget lube, but he knew that if he left the room to rummage around in his bedside drawer, he'd probably never get his nerve up to get in front of the camera again.  
  
_For you, Seungri._   Seunghyun raised one hand to his mouth, blushing again when he realized his mouth was too dry.  
  
“Can I have a drink first?” he asked.  
  
“Of course, the classiest films always have a wine scene,” Seungri said, twisting behind him to get a glass.  He held it to Seunghyun's lips for a few sips, then set it aside. “Okay. Go on.”   
  
Seunghyun sucked two fingers in his mouth, then reached down, closing his eyes as he worked on getting them inside.  Seungri was silent the entire time Seunghyun touched himself, though Seunghyun heard the muted mechanical whir of the camera's zoom.  He broke the silence with a hiss as he added a third finger.  It was too dry, it burned, but he wanted Seungri to see.  
  
When he opened his eyes to gauge Seungri's reaction, he was surprised to see the camera directed at his face.    
  
“Fucking beautiful,” Seungri muttered, fumbling with a blind hand to unbuckle his belt. “Wait.”  He set the camera down on the cushion next to Seunghyun's leg.  Seunghyun stopped, fingers still inside, watching Seungri open his fly in record time. Then he paused, looking behind him at the coffee table and then feeling all around Seunghyun.  “Shit, I don't have one on me.  Didn't you bring out a condom?”    
  
Seunghyun stared at him before his eyes traveled lower, considering what awaited him.  He thought of the first time, of how it hurt, and all the subsequent times, craving the catharsis.  He pulled his fingers out and turned over, wanting to press back into Seungri, but wanting just as badly to play the part.  
  
_I'm not good, but I can act like it._  
  
“I want it like this,” Seunghyun said, quiet and matter-of-fact.  Seungri grabbed the camera, training it back on Seunghyun's face.    
  
“You sure?  You're going on the record?”  
  
“I'm clean.”  
  
“Me too. Wanna see the paperwork?” Seungri said, trying to play it off as a joke, but Seunghyun could hear the slight tremble in his words. He felt a fierce little spark light up deep in his core.  
  
“Maybe later.  Do you ever do this with anyone else?” he asked.  
  
“Just—just Jiyong,” Seungri said, near to stuttering. “But it was years ago and I've been tested since then.”  
  
“I trust you,” Seunghyun said, a small, sad smile flickering over his face. _Of course, Ji._   “Same here.” When Seungri nodded he turned to face the back of the couch.  
  
Seunghyun heard muted wet noises as Seungri gathered what moisture he could before rubbing the head of his cock against Seunghyun, seeming contemplative in his movements. Seunghyun realized Seungri must be filming when he heard the zoom move again.  Seungri's damp palm cupped one of Seunghyun's cheeks for a few seconds before sliding back up to grip his hip, whispering something to himself that Seunghyun couldn't make out. Seunghyun groaned at the sudden thrust, overwhelmed as always at the initial realization of how much there was to take in.  
  
“Mm, yeah, you've been way too quiet,” Seungri said, rocking back and forth with small movements. He gasped as he slid in deeper, his fingers twitching and then scratching at Seunghyun's skin.  
  
Seunghyun obliged him by making more noise, though it was hardly voluntary by the time they were a few minutes into the fuck. Seungri responded to him by quickening the pace and force, until Seunghyun was in that weird cock-drunk place he'd learned to wander into rather easily these days.  He could hear Seungri talking, the usual filthy encouragements he loved to punctuate his movements with, but he didn't pay particular attention until there was a hand in his hair, yanking his head up from the couch cushion.    
  
“Look at me,” Seungri demanded.  He still had the camera on him, but Seunghyun was practiced at ignoring cameras if he was the subject.  He preferred to follow instructions exactly, but it was difficult. Looking at Seungri always got him too close, too fast.  “Ahh you should see your face, Seunghyun.  You make the same one every time you start bitching about something.  Now I get to think of fucking you raw the next time I see it.”    
  
“Seungri-ya—”  Seunghyun hoped the urgency of his words would get the idea across.    
  
“You wanna come for me already, huh?” Seungri said, pulling tighter on Seunghyun's hair.  Seunghyun barely managed a nod before Seungri dragged himself out, his reluctant moan making Seunghyun shudder.  
  
“Not yet, Seunghyun...” Seungri's hand released Seunghyun's hair to stroke slowly down, ended up at the sweat-dampened hair at his nape.  He pushed the head of his cock back in, almost tender, though he couldn't resist a sharp jerk of his hips when Seunghyun ground back into him with an impatient growl. Seunghyun swiveled his hips, wanting the pressure back deep inside him, ready to lose control. “Fuck yes, just like that,” Seungri gasped, sounding suspiciously close to his own peak.  He pulled out again; there was a soft thump as the camera hit the couch next to Seunghyun, followed by one of Seungri's palms coming down next to it.  He braced himself, breathing deeply as he began a heady pattern – slip in with a quick, smooth stroke, grind against Seunghyun until he had to take a break, back out, then start over. Meanwhile Seungri's other hand touched wherever it had a mind to, fingers trailing over the knobs of Seunghyun's spine at the back of his neck, then tweaking a nipple, then reaching lower to pet his weeping cock, collecting the precum to help slick the way for Seungri to keep fucking him. Seunghyun thought he would be sore, but the lack of latex between them felt so fine, so silky, so outrageously _hot_.  He hadn't asked before because he knew it would be like this. Habit forming.  
  
The length of Seungri's breaks grew shorter and shorter, until finally he slid to a complete halt inside Seunghyun, lowering his weight on top of him and encircling his arms around Seunghyun's waist. Seunghyun felt the soft material of Seungri's shirt stick to the sweat on his back, shivered at the breath ghosting over his neck.  
  
“I can't take anymore,” Seungri whispered, hitching himself forward.  Seunghyun turned his head to receive his first reciprocal kiss of the night, Seungri's tongue moving out of sync with his cock, driving Seunghyun to utter distraction at both ends. He came when Seungri moaned his name into his mouth, the wash of sensation rushing over him not nearly as sweet as the arms tightening around him. The crying began as his orgasm faded, and this time Seunghyun didn't fight it.  Seungri pulled his mouth away when he realized the shaking movements underneath him were sobs. Seunghyun chased him, kissing the swollen lips gently to reassure him.    
  
“It was so good. It was just so good—”  
  
“No!”  Seungri's whisper was fierce.  He backed out of Seunghyun, pulling him into his lap, the arms still around his waist squeezing until Seunghyun thought his ribs would crack.  “Please, don't! I told you, I _can't!_ ” Seunghyun fought for control, but lost it entirely when he heard the first ragged cry rip out of Seungri.  
  
Seunghyun struggled out of his grasp, turning to face him. They held each other as they wept, Seungri making horrible, braying sounds of anguish and Seunghyun trying to absorb each one as penance.   Everyone was used to Seunghyun's volatile emotions, but he hadn't seen Seungri like this in years.  Maybe not since Jiyong and the “cigarette.” If anyone had ever questioned Seungri's love for the hyungs, Seunghyun could point to the depth of the maknae's pain as an answer. Seunghyun knew his drunken apologies were woefully inadequate.   
  
“Seungri-ya,” Seunghyun said, after the worst of it passed. He wiped the tears from Seungri's face before he kissed him again.  Seungri just took it, his crumpled expression making Seunghyun want to collapse under the weight of his guilt.  
  
“Aren't you having a hard enough time without this?  Isn't it too much?” Seungri said, his words hoarse and limp.  
  
“You are not my burden,” Seunghyun said, cradling Seungri's damp face in his hands, then resting his own face against it.  
  
“Why do you want this?”  
  
“Why did you break up with Jiyong?”  
  
Seungri jerked his head back, wincing as the edge of the coffee table bit into his back. His eyes went stormy, two final fat, angry tears tracing hot tracks down his cheeks.  
  
“Because it wasn't real!” he cried, standing up.  He went on, his voice cracking under the strain. “To him I was just—fuck to _both_ of you I'm just—”  He broke off with a strangled groan before skewering Seunghyun with a wretched grin, his lips trembling and twitching. “I'm not actually a viable option."  
  
Seunghyun looked up at him and kept silent in case there was more. When several seconds passed he chanced another question.  
  
“What's real mean to you?”  
  
Seungri huffed out a bitter laugh, waving Seunghyun away as he paced toward the dining room. Seunghyun heard the angry whine of Seungri's pants zipper going up before he pivoted back, his posture pulling more stiff and defensive with each step.  
  
“The entire time it was just a dream. He always wanted to be with other people, too.  No, okay, the last time it wasn't 'people,' it was a _person_. Shit, she was younger than me! And I knew he didn't just like her, okay. I know what I saw. He fucking _loved_ her.”  
  
“He loved you, too,” Seunghyun said carefully, getting to his feet as well. “And we date women, too.”  
  
“Yeah, of course.  If you can't beat em, join em,” Seungri said, the acrid smile souring his face again.  “Seunghyun, what does it matter?  You're already gone.”  
  
_No. You're the one who's been away, Seungri.  Did I teach you how to be so cold?_  
  
“I'm not going anywhere,” Seunghyun said.    
  
“That's a good one, Seunghyun, really,” Seungri said, shaking his head.    
  
“You're right, I'm a coward.  And I've been hiding for a very long time.”   Seunghyun refused to look away, refused to avoid the pain on Seungri's face.  _Seungri-ya, you almost left before I had a chance to know you._ And it would've been _fine_ , it would've been _okay_.  But Seunghyun didn't want to settle anymore. “You've been trying to push me away, right?”  
  
“You want me to be alone for years,” Seungri said, crossing his arms tight across his chest.  “I can't.”  
  
“No. I'm not asking you to do that,” Seunghyun went to Seungri, heedless of the cold sweat that made him shiver and the fluid making its gradual way down one of his thighs. It was evidence of an intimacy Seunghyun desperately wanted to affirm.  
  
“Then what, Seunghyun? What do you want?”  
  
_I'm sorry. I'm sorry for needing you so much now._  
  
“You. Just you.  Whatever you can give,” Seunghyun said.  He reached out, rested his hand on one of Seungri's forearms.  
  
“Maybe this is it, Seunghyun.  It's years. _Years._ ”  
  
“I know. I waited almost ten. I'm sorry.”  
  
“Fuck you,” Seungri whispered. His tears were back, shimmering above his already swollen lower lids.  
  
Seunghyun slid his hand down to one of Seungri's, held his breath as he gently pried it away from his body.    
  
“When you get out,” he murmured. “I'll be here.  If you want. If you ever need me, too.”    
  
Seungri's tears overspilled and Seunghyun had to do _something_ before his heart cracked irreparably. So he smiled.  
  
“I'm not getting married anytime soon, you know.”  
  
“Ah god, Seunghyun,” Seungri said, looking up at the ceiling.  He let out a gusty sigh when Seunghyun intertwined their fingers and gently tugged on him.  
  
“Stay the night, okay? You are welcome here. Whatever you decide.”  
  
Seungri allowed Seunghyun to lead him into the bathroom and undress him with certain, reverent hands.  This time they opted for a shower, quick and efficient...except for the kisses Seunghyun stole, goading Seungri into claiming precious seconds of his own.  
  
They didn't speak again until they were facing each other in bed, tucked in safe darkness.  
  
“You know I took a shower before you got here, too,” Seunghyun said. “I preferred the last one. Showers are always better when you're in them.”    
  
Seungri acknowledged the reference with a little snort.  
  
“Hilarious. Jerk.”  He paused, then cleared his throat.  Seunghyun braced himself for a serious pronouncement, but Seungri asked the next question lightly enough.  “Don't you want a family, Seunghyun? You're so good with kids.”  
  
Seunghyun made a noncommittal noise.  “I've been reading some articles Daesungie sent me.  Whatever is wrong with me, I think it's hereditary.”  
  
“Oh come on,” Seungri scoffed. “You shouldn't self-diagnose from the internet.”  
  
“Haha, but you admit that I'm fucked up!” Seunghyun said, poking at his stomach.  
  
“I didn't say that.”  
  
“You've never met my father.  But I know.  I'm worse than him.”  
  
“No. No fucking way you are anything like him,” Seungri said, surprising Seunghyun with his vehemence, but Seungri really couldn't know. Seunghyun might be a total emotional disaster sometimes, but he had always played those cards very close.  
  
“Seungri-ya, it isn't so black and white.”  When Seungri didn't answer he felt a little bad. He had to get better about talking down to him like that.  “Don't _you_ want kids?”  
  
“Yeah, Seunghyun. I think I do.”  
  
Seunghyun thought about the hanbok.  
  
“Okay then. I'm a fantastic uncle. I'll be their favorite, wait and see.”  
  
Another sigh from Seungri gnawed away at Seunghyun's soul. He groped for Seungri's hand under the sheets and pulled it up to his lips. At first he hurried, just in case Seungri took his hand away, but eventually his kisses lingered, special attention paid to each finger. Seunghyun mouthed the words against Seungri's palm, then moved it up to cover his own eyes. He peeked out from under it to see Seungri's eyes crinkled up with a smile.  
  
“I love you,” Seunghyun repeated.  
  
Seungri turned his hand to grip Seunghyun's own, then squeezed the living hell out of it.  
  
“Then what are we?”  
  
“Aish.  Why are you so concerned with labels,” Seunghyun complained.  Another squeeze.  “Okay, okay.”  He thought for a moment.  “I'm the stone, and you're the blood.  Or maybe it's the other way around.”  
  
“What does that even mean?” Seungri pouted.  
  
“Google it, maknae.  And write me a song while I'm gone.”  
  
“Whatever you say.” Seungri squeezed Seunghyun's hand again before raising up on one elbow, peering down at him in the dim light. “I just remembered to tell you.  I'm taking the camera.”  
  
“What? You can't take back a birthday present,” Seunghyun protested.  
  
“I'm not. I'm just going to keep it safe until you get back.”  
  
“So it's a date, then?” Seunghyun waggled his eyebrows.  
  
“What?” Seungri laughed.  Seunghyun pulled him back down, then in, wanting to set the touch of skin on skin into his memory.  
  
“The return ceremony.  We'll put something else on it to commemorate the event.” He traced his thumb along the edge of Seungri's lower lip. _Miss this already._ Seunghyun cupped his cheek. _And these._  
  
“Wow, I guess you really liked being on camera,” Seungri said, tilting his face into the caress.  
  
“Only if you are the director,” Seunghyun said. “Then I'm more than okay with it. What do you think?”  He tilted his jaw up.  _Kiss me._  
  
Seungri accepted his invitation, solemn and sweet for a time before he set about leaving Seunghyun bruised and breathless.

“I'll wait,” Seungri said, and Seunghyun knew he'd never stop wanting him, no matter how much it hurt. 


End file.
